Moments (Secret Romance 2)
by phati-sari
Summary: A series of 21 one-shots (or moments), which span just under four months and show how Arnav and Khushi came to be in a secret relationship. This is the second in a four-part series set in the Secret Romance AU. I highly recommend reading Happy New Year (Secret Romance #1) for context.
1. Chapter 1: Khushi

**Chapter 1: Khushi**

 _18th November_

Arnav-ji came down the stairs, slowly, confidently, his sure steps setting the rhythm of her heartbeats. His eyes didn't move from hers, not even when he stood in front of her, so close that she took a step backwards before she knew what she was doing. He frowned.

"Di," he said, looking behind Khushi to where his sister sat on the couch, "I'm going to the office for a meeting. I'll be back in three hours."

"OK, take care," came the distracted reply.

"I'll be back for lunch," his voice lowered and his eyes flicked back to Khushi.

He was doing it again. Addressing his sister but speaking to **her** , letting her know where he was going and when he'd return.

 _Why? Why is he treating me as though ... as though I have a right to know. As though he wants me to know._

Khushi glanced at his sister before allowing herself a slight nod, tracking him as he strode to the front door and turned for one last glance before disappearing through it.

When he returned hours later, Khushi felt him before he even stepped inside the house. She closed her eyes, convinced she could feel Arnav-ji striding closer as he walked through the entrance hall and into the living area, and opened them to find that he'd frozen at the bottom of the stairs. He held her gaze for several long seconds before retreating upstairs, allowing her to finally draw a shaky breath.

At lunch, Arnav-ji wouldn't let her serve him as she made her way around the table, opting to take everything from her and serve himself. Their fingers brushed, again and again, and as he took the plate of _roti_ from her she realized he was doing it on purpose.

Her pulse was suddenly a loud thudding in her ears.

The silence between them as he drove her home was unbearable, but Khushi didn't know how to break it. She couldn't think of anything to say that didn't link, however tenuously, to their engagements and everything that had happened over the past few weeks.

* * *

 _Author's Note: This is a series of 21 one-shots (or moments), which span just under four months and show how Arnav and Khushi came to be in a secret relationship. This is the second in a four-part series set in the Secret Romance AU._ _ **I highly recommend reading Happy New Year (Secret Romance #1) for context**_ _._

 _A Note on the Timeline: In the show, the double engagement was on the 16th of some month, most likely December. I've altered the timeline so the double engagement occurred on the 16th of November. Aakash and Payal's wedding will be on 14th February._


	2. Chapter 2: Arnav

**Chapter 2: Arnav**

 _21st November_

The day after Aakash and Payal's engagement, Di had cornered him at dinner, pouting in that way of hers as she'd asked him to chauffeur Khushi to Shantivan every morning so they could plan the wedding.

"Your office is being remodelled and you're working from home," she'd argued.

"I'm not your chauffeur Di," he'd drawled, hiding the quickening of his pulse, "Get Mohan to do it."

But it was a token resistance, offered so his sister didn't think him overeager, and he'd allowed another two minutes to pass before agreeing with a sigh.

This was the fourth morning he'd found himself in Laxmi Nagar at 9:00 sharp, poised to rap his knuckles against her front door. As usual, his knock set off a series of chain reactions.

"Hai re Nand Kishore! He's here, _Sanka Devi_!" Bua-ji's voice rang out.

Seconds later, Khushi's voice floated through the locked wooden doors as she yelled goodbyes to her family. A delicious anticipation coursed through him at the soft scrape of the lock, his pulse quickening as he waited for his first glimpse of her. She was breathless when she swung open the doors, having apparently run from the other side of the house, and the smile she gave him in greeting caused his own breath to stall.

"Ready?" the slight catch in his voice went unnoticed by her.

She nodded and followed him to the car, where he opened the passenger door and helped her in before making his way to the driver's side.

 _Three days of silence is enough. We need to talk._

Khushi fiddled with her _dupatta_ as he eased onto the highway, stealing glances at him when she thought he wouldn't see. Arnav cleared his throat before opening with the ice-breaker he'd practised this morning.

"A car maintenance manual? You got me a car maintenance manual as a present?"

Khushi didn't follow his script - _When has she ever, Arnav?_ asked the voice in his mind - reacting not with the tinkling laughter he'd expected but with a tremble. Realising that she'd mistaken his curiosity for anger, he breathed a curse before launching into a clumsy reassurance.

"I um ... I liked it. Very funny, Khushi ... Kumari ... Gupta."

 _Damn, I love the taste of her name on my tongue._

Arnav's fingers tightened around the steering wheel as the minutes lengthened, stretching the quiet between them until it was painful. Khushi's silence left him hollow. Silence was an anathema to the smiling, bouncing, slip of a girl that lived between his heartbeats.

 _Say something, baby. Anything, so we can start rebuilding the bridges between us. The engagements are over, done, finished, and this time ... I refuse to back down._

"Arnav-ji?" her soft, hesitant call broke through his thoughts.

 _Finally._

"Mmmmm?"

"Did you ... did you hear from Lavanya-ji again?"

The cavity in his chest expanded.

 _Why are you doing this to yourself, baby ... Why are you doing this to us? It will only hurt you._

"Uhh, no. Not since ... not since the day after ..." he trailed off, the sentence needing no other completion.

Khushi nodded, back to nervously toying with her _dupatta_ , and he still hadn't thought of anything to say when he pulled up to his house. Arnav stopped the car and glanced over at her.

She blinked up at him. Time stood still as he drank her in.

The flutter of her eyelashes over her expressive eyes, the quiver of her lush lips, the rosy blush that he inspired with his gaze alone.

"Ar ... nav ... ji ..."

Khushi's halting whisper brought him back. He quickly slid out of the car and opened her door for her, reaching across and undoing her seatbelt when she was too flustered to do it herself. Arnav helped her out of the car, catching Khushi when she stumbled, and made sure to brush her fingers as they walked in silence to the front door.


	3. Chapter 3: Khushi

**Chapter 3: Khushi**

 _24th November_

These morning conversations were getting easier.

Khushi had learned to avoid any mention of the engagements, Lavanya-ji, or Aakash-ji and Jiji's wedding. These topics, and anything connected to them, forced a silence so complete that any hope of conversation and friendship seemed aeons away. Instead, they spent their mornings talking about ... nothing. And yet, everything. It almost felt like a code to her, a way of exploring everything that was between them without actually mentioning any of it.

Every morning, he met her at the front door, asking if she was ready in that soft, rough tone that made her weak-kneed. Arnav-ji always opened the car door for her and helped her inside with a hand on her back, sending a frisson of energy through her with every touch.

Today they talked about old movies, discovering an unexpected shared interest. They argued good-naturedly - _Namak Haram_ vs. _Karz_ , _Sholay_ vs. _Veer_ , _Coolie_ vs. _Guide_.

Instead of ringing the doorbell as usual, Arnav-ji stopped her at the door to his home and looked at her intently before taking her name. Softly. Intimately. All at once, Khushi knew that she wasn't ready for this conversation, barely a week after Lavanya-ji had left for London. She sidestepped him and rushed inside without responding, busying herself with Nani-ji and Anjali-ji and refusing to make eye contact. He lingered for a few moments, his gaze a physical thing she felt between her shoulder blades, before withdrawing upstairs.

She spent hours feeling guilty, recognising that he'd only been trying to mend what was broken. The late afternoon found her standing outside his bedroom, having spent most of the day gathering her courage. But her hand froze when she reached up to knock.

 _Khushi. You can do this. Just knock. He won't eat you. Oh Devi Maiyaa, please protect me._

The door swung open before she made a decision.

"Khushi?"

"I ... You ... I mean," Khushi took a deep breath, "I wanted to talk. About ... about this morning."

"Oh-kaaayy," he looked confused as he invited her in with a gesture.

Khushi warily stepped inside, stopping beside his sofa to look back at him. The man she loved. The man she wanted with her for the rest of her life. The man who didn't believe in love or marriage, who'd broken off a year long relationship eight days ago, leaving one of her closest friends heartbroken.

"Arnav-ji ..."

He took a few steps towards her but she stopped him with a gesture.

"No. I need ... I need time."

These were not the words she'd practised in her mind all day, but as they dropped from her lips, Khushi acknowledged the truth of them.

Arnav-ji stared at her, his gaze so intense that she wondered, as she had many times these past few months, at the force that tied her to him so inexorably that it seemed plausible - even rational - that he could read her every thought. His eyes closed briefly as he nodded.

"How much time?" he asked, his voice barely rising above a whisper.

"I don't know. Just ... time."

The silence in the confines of his car was deafening; a ringing in her ears so loud, so permeating, that it stayed with her long after he'd dropped her home and driven away in an angry squeal of tyres.


	4. Chapter 4: Arnav

**Chapter 4: Arnav**

 _25th November_

Khushi was waiting on the porch when he parked in front of the house the next morning. This unexpected change in their established routine answered many of the questions that had kept him awake until dawn. Arnav didn't step out of the car, unsure whether her request for time included his customary greetings at the door, but certain that it included the caress of his fingers as he helped her into his SUV. She hauled herself into the car using a series of clumsy movements that had him yearning to place his hands on her waist and lift her into her seat. Instead, he curled his fingers tighter around the steering wheel, the only outward sign of his inner battle for restraint.

Arnav watched her struggle with the seatbelt for two minutes before deciding to intervene.

"Khushi ... may I?"

When Khushi nodded, her eyes wide, he stretched out an arm and buckled her in, careful not to touch her at all. Their eyes locked, a vibration of longing - of apology, of want - passing between them in the heavy silence. She, as usual, broke eye contact first, her gaze skittering away to rest on something beyond the window. Leaning back into his seat, Arnav let out a heavy sigh.

In the past fortnight, the midnight musings of his mind had taken to presenting him with an alternative reality. A reality in which he'd accepted Khushi's peace offering that night on her verandah - "Thank you for returning my wallet" - a reality in which he'd never uttered the words that'd destroyed almost everything between them - "This night, and you, hold no significance for me". A reality in which he'd been able to answer her breathless, confused question after he'd bandaged her wounded finger - "What do you want from me?"

He had no right, he was acutely aware, to expect another chance to prove himself to her. It was nothing short of a miracle that they'd clawed their way back to some semblance of a friendship while bringing his brother and her sister together. And yet ... she'd asked for _time_ , time to gather herself, time to think. She hadn't denied him outright. And this small truth caused hope to bubble inside Arnav. He could be patient if Khushi Kumari Gupta was to be his reward.

He would have to be.

They spent the day avoiding each other, some unspoken pact between them forcing one to leave the room when the other came in, but they couldn't keep their eyes from straying. The restless wandering of fingers had ceased, the pointed meandering of conversation had disappeared, but soft touch of their lingering regard would not be curtailed.

He watched her as she served lunch at the dining table. She watched him as he came down the stairs.

He watched her make tea in the kitchen. She watched him take a call in the living room.

He watched as she frowned at a sample menu for the reception. She watched as he helped his sister finalize the guest list.


	5. Chapter 5: Khushi

**Chapter 5: Khushi**

 _8th December_

It had been two weeks.

Two long weeks of silent car rides, punctuated only by the murmur of his voice as he asked permission to buckle or unbuckle her seat belt. Two weeks of avoiding each other in the expanse of his home, of halting, awkward non-conversations when the wedding planning forced them to interact. Two weeks of not ... touching. Khushi hadn't realised how much they touched each other until they'd stopped - the soft caress of his hands as he helped her into his car, the brush of his shoulders as he walked past, the skim of his fingers at her waist as he caught her when she stumbled.

Two weeks of sleepless nights as she'd struggled to reconcile everything she felt with everything she wanted. Nights where she weighed up everything she knew about him with everything she wanted and expected in life. Nights where she'd reshaped the dreams of a girl into the wishes of a woman.

And finally, she'd come to a decision.

Khushi had taken extra care getting ready this morning, picking a red _kameez_ and pairing it with red-pink bangles, carefully applying kajal to her eyes, smoothing her hair into a neat plait.

 _He likes red, doesn't he?_

She sat at the table, a cup of tea clutched in her hands as she waited nervously for his knock. He always came at 9, and on some days, she was convinced she felt him as he approached – felt every step he took from his car to the front door. Her heart skipped a beat when a sharp rap on wood signalled his arrival. She called out a hasty goodbye to her family as she opened the door.

Her breath caught. He looked ... like the man of her dreams. Black suit, black tie, coupled with the steel-blue shirt he'd worn on Diwali. Her favourite.

"Ready?"

Khushi smiled, glad that they'd managed to preserve this small part of their routine. She nodded, looking up at him, wanting him to read in her eyes what she wasn't brave enough to say.

That she was ready. For whatever this was. For whatever he was offering.

And these two weeks had taught Khushi that he was offering _something_. She'd half-expected his driver, Mohan-ji, instead of him the morning after she'd asked for time. And yet, Arnav-ji came everyday, a silent and uncomplaining brightness in her mornings. She'd finally deciphered the meaning in Lavanya-ji's request that she take care of Arnav-ji, and in her quiet statement that she'd understand when the time came. Khushi thought she understood now. He hadn't pulled away. _He was waiting_.

Arnav-ji walked her to his car, opening the door and waiting for her to climb inside unassisted.

 _Devi Maiyaa, please give me strength_.

Khushi used the door to lever herself in, carefully placing her hand so it covered half of his. They paused - a poignant, charged, exquisite pause - and when she looked up at him, his eyes flared with a warmth that let her know that he realised. He knew her touch had been deliberate. Settled in the car, Khushi waited for him to introduce the topic of the day's light-hearted conversation. Half the drive passed in cordial silence before she realised that he was waiting for her.

 _It's only fair. I asked for time so I should be the first to make a move._

She searched her mind for an appropriate topic and alighted on a question she'd wanted to ask since they first sat in this car together.

"How come you ... uhh ... you don't listen to m-music in the car?"

Arnav-ji glanced at her, "Music?"

Having grown up listening to the temperamental radio in Babu-ji's equally temperamental car, Khushi had always found the silence in this big, white car eerie. Oppressive.

"Yes. Most people listen to music in the car. Why ... why don't you?"

"I don't need to," he frowned.

 _Khushi! Let it go! Does he look like he's ever listened to music? He's the Laad Governor._

They lapsed into silence as Khushi realised that she was playing with fire - her questions could ignite his anger and leave her overtures for peace in tatters. But now that she'd started, she wanted an answer. She wanted to scratch beneath the surface of this stoic man. She wanted to _know_ him.

 _Please, Devi Maiyaa, help us work through this ... Help us find a way to talk again._

"Do you like any music?" she asked quietly.

"Khushi, are you really asking me about music?"

"N-no. Don't worry. Forget I said-"

"Maybe you can bring something for us to listen to tomorrow?"

Her eyes snapped to the figure next to her. A smile played on his lips - that rare, slow smile that soothed her and always left her deeply content, especially when she'd inspired it. She wanted to be the secret behind all his smiles. Her heart beat faster in response to the searching gaze he turned on her as they waited for a traffic light to change. For the first time in fifteen days, he offered his hand as she slid out of his car at Shantivan, and Khushi gladly took it.

They didn't see each other again until everyone gathered for lunch. Arnav-ji returned to his habit of taking everything from her hands and serving himself before handing it back. He held her gaze as he brushed his fingers over hers deliberately, and Khushi was sure her heart stopped beating.


	6. Chapter 6: Arnav

**Chapter 6: Arnav**

 _9th December_

* * *

 _Dekha hai pehli baar saajan ki aankhon mein pyaar, [I've seen love in my beloved's eyes for the first time,]_

 _Ab ja ke aaya mere bechain dil ko karaar. [Now my restless heart is at peace.]_

* * *

Arnav drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for the numbers on the display to flash 9:00. He'd been eager to see Khushi this morning, so eager that he'd arrived fifteen minutes earlier than he usually did.

The last fortnight had been Hell; staying away from Khushi had gone against his every wish and desire but he'd managed it, for her. He'd been tempted, countless times, to send Mohan in his stead and take a reprieve from the daily water-torture - he'd been rendered powerless by her request for time but her presence continued to seep into him drop by excruciating drop. This car had ever been their sanctuary, however, and no matter how things deteriorated between them, he found solace in the familiar territory: him in the driver's seat and her next to him. He couldn't help but feel that their relationship had played out here.

Jealousy had surprised Arnav yesterday, stabbing through him at the sight of _his_ Khushi, dressed in red and gorgeously made up. He'd been standing next to his car, mentally plotting the destruction of whoever she'd dressed up for, when she'd carefully placed her hand over his. His envy had instantly been replaced with relief as he'd read the silent permission in her eyes.

 _She dressed up for me. She must know how much I like seeing her in red._

Arnav had dressed carefully this morning - maroon shirt and tie with a black suit - and had spent an aeon on his hair. He'd felt absurd when he realised what he was doing – who'd believe that Arnav Singh Raizada had been anxious about how he looked ... for a girl? And yet, he checked his reflection in the rear view mirror before getting out of the car.

"Arnav-babua! Come in, come in," Khushi's Bua-ji answered the door in an unexpected break from their routine.

Arnav's expression betrayed none of his surprise or disappointment as he declined her.

"I won't hear it," she smiled at him, "Khushi is running late and you cannot wait outside."

He cut an awkward figure on the edge of the couch, glancing around in discomfort as Bua-ji bustled in the kitchen. A thought strayed into his mind - the word 'in-laws' reverberated at the edge of his consciousness - but he stamped it out hastily.

 _Always be willing to walk away, Arnav._

The key to a successful negotiation, he knew, was the absolute willingness to walk away with no regrets. And yet ...

 _Am I still capable of walking away from her? Have I ever been?_

He took the tray from Bua-ji when she returned, carefully placing it on the coffee table before resuming his seat. She hadn't just brought tea; biscuits and snacks were piled onto the tray. She politely asked after his family, especially Nani and Di, before bringing up the wedding plans. In turn, Arnav asked about Khushi's father and was relieved to hear that his recovery was progressing well. He and Garima-ji were at a healing retreat, Bua-ji informed him. Arnav, who'd always found small talk uncomfortable, wondered if his short, precise answers were too stiff and formal.

When Bua-ji waxed lyrical about Aakash, exceedingly happy with her future son-in-law, he felt a shiver of apprehension.

 _Would she accept me as wholeheartedly if ... Shit. Arnav, get a grip. Focus on the goal, this is not helping ... Where the hell is Khushi?_

He looked up at a sudden crash in another part of the house, and then Khushi was there, running into the room as though he'd called her to his side with his thoughts.

"Arnav-ji? You?" she skidded to a stop.

Bua-ji prevented his reply.

" _Sanka Devi_ , you're running so late! What did you expect him to do? Wait for you in the car?" Bua-ji turned to Arnav, "Arnav-babua, you must have been cold outside. Here, have some tea, it will warm you right up. How much sugar?"

She held a spoon of sugar over his cup, poised to pour it in, and Khushi leapt to her side to slap it away, "Bua-ji! He can't have sugar."

Dismayed by the spilt sugar, Bua-ji started to berate Khushi, but her voice faded away, drowned out by the fast, almost painful rhythm of his heart. She still cared.

. . . . . . .

In the car, Khushi reached into her bag and produced a CD. She smiled as she brandished it at him, but it faded away when he threw her a quizzical look.

"You ... you said I should bring music."

Ah. He'd forgotten.

This car was his sanctuary, a refuge from the demands of life and one of the few places that he felt was solely his. Its silence had always been comforting. Khushi's questions - _her criticism_ \- had cut deep, threatening the careful restraints he'd placed on his anger. But the hollow silence that'd met his curt reply - "I don't need to" - had jeopardised their progress, so when she'd pressed on, asking about his music preferences in a quiet, wavering voice, he'd allowed her this one concession.

Arnav took the CD and slid it into the slot, trying not to regret allowing Khushi's encroachment into his personal space as he navigated the narrow alleyways of Laxmi Nagar. The first song surprised him – it was shrill and loud, about someone named Sheila.

"What the-!" his protest was immediate, "Khushi, you can't expect me to listen to this!"

She burst into laughter, her eyes sparkling with mirth, and his heart skipped a beat at the sight.

"I knew it!" she grinned, "Don't worry, I was teasing. I think you'll like the others."

She was right. The next few songs were more tolerable and he was surprised to find that he recognised a few of them - his choices tended towards old classics rather than modern pop. He watched Khushi as she drummed her fingers and mouthed the words to a love song from _Saajan_ , glad they were sharing this moment. Too soon, they were parked in his driveway and Arnav was helping her out of the car. He walked close to Khushi, allowing their hands to brush, and wrapped two of his fingers around two of hers just before they reached the door. She gasped, looking up at him as a blush formed prettily on her cheeks, and he winked before releasing her to gesture that she should precede him through the doors. Di rushed over before they'd taken five steps into the house.

"Chhote! I'm glad you're back. Can you and Khushi-ji go to the markets for me? We forgot to order a few things for tonight. I've made you list and it won't take long. Please?"

"Uhh, yeah, okay. Khushi?"

She gave a slight nod before turning to Di and taking the list.

"Don't worry, Anjali-ji, it will all be here before this afternoon."

Back in the car, Arnav asked Khushi to read out the list so he knew where to go. He'd hoped the trip would be quick, but soon discovered that Khushi liked to haggle with the vendors. And by haggle, he meant that she wore them down with her crazy, circular logic until they were practically begging her to leave. They were looking for the last item on the list when Khushi gasped, wrapping a hand around his wrist and pointing to something in the distance with the other. Khushi bounced as she asked if they could go there and her hand slipped down until she was holding his tightly in excitement. She only realised what had happened when his fingers wrapped around her hand, unease slowly replacing her enthusiasm as she looked up at him. They let go at the same time.

"Come on, let's go. I want to see what you're so excited about," Arnav pretended nothing had happened.

He watched Khushi as she ran her fingers along the rainbow of bangles on display, determinedly avoiding his eyes. He noticed that that she kept returning to a purple set that would go perfectly with the blue and purple outfit she was wearing. Khushi turned away after one last, lingering touch and crossed the stall to look at earrings instead. Making sure her back was turned, Arnav quickly made a purchase.

He found her in front of a mirror, holding up earrings to her ears and smiling to herself as she waved them around. Arnav watched her for a few minutes before she noticed him in the reflection and skipped over.

"Which ones are nicer?" she showed him two earrings.

They looked identical in the dim lighting, although Arnav suspected that one had stones of a slightly brighter blue embedded in it.

"Uhh, which do you like?"

"Arnav-ji. I like them both, that's why I'm asking you."

"This one," he pointed to the one in her right hand, his statement coming across as a question, and Khushi quickly shook her head. Smiling, he corrected, pointing to her left hand, "That one."

In the car, Arnav watched Khushi struggle to wear her new earrings using the tiny mirror on the back of the sun visor. She froze when he mumbled her name, allowing him to reach over and take it from her hand. He used two fingers to tuck her hair behind her ear before threading her earring on. Khushi trembled, her eyes closing as his fingers brushed her neck before lightly tracing along her shoulder and down her arm. He took the other earring from her and turned her head gently before putting it on. Arnav cupped her face, his fingers tangling into her hair and his thumb tracing her cheekbone. It took every ounce of his self-control to stop himself from kissing her quivering lips.

Instead, he pulled away with a sigh. When Khushi opened her eyes, blinking around as though she'd forgotten they were in the car, he turned the ignition and started for home.

"Wait," he stopped Khushi when she tried to flee the moment they were parked in his driveway.

Arnav's hand shook as he presented her with a bag. Khushi peeked inside and looked back at him before pulling out the box, revealing a set of purple and gold bangles when she opened it.

"You liked them," he shrugged, answering her unspoken question.

Khushi gave him one last startled look before rushing into the house. He followed, absently asking Om Prakash to unload the car for Di on his way upstairs, and collapsed on the sofa with a groan.

. . . . . . .

Hours later, a hesitant knock interrupted his teleconference with overseas clients.

 _Khushi._

Arnav quickly ended the call, trusting Aman to handle the rest, but the door didn't open when called out a wary "Come in". The doorway was empty when he checked, causing him to frown in confusion until he spied the folded piece of notepaper she'd slipped under his door. Arnav smiled when he unfolded it to reveal two words, written carefully in English.

' _Thank you'_.

He returned to his desk, rummaging until he found a blank piece of paper, and carefully composed a reply in Hindi.

Satisfaction surged through Arnav when he noticed the purple bangles on Khushi's wrists as he drove her home. They chimed as she swayed to the music from her CD, turning every few minutes to grace him with her brilliant smile. At her house, he extended a hand to help her down from his car, the note hidden in his palm. Arnav could pinpoint the instant she realised - her eyes flew up to his and she gasped. Khushi took it before running inside and peeking at him from behind her front door.

He winked, and she grinned before disappearing.

* * *

 _The song lyrics at the beginning are from 'Dekha Hai Pehli Baar' (Saajan, 1991). The rough English translation is mine._

 _The loud, shrill song about Sheila is 'Sheila Ki Jawani' (Tees Maar Khan, 2010). The love song from Saajan that Khushi mouths is 'Dekha Hai Pehli Baar'._

 _There will be song lyrics and references when they're listening to music in his car from now on._


	7. Chapter 7: Khushi

**Chapter 7: Khushi**

 _10th December_

* * *

 _Sajna hai mujhe, sajna ke liye, [I have to dress up for my beloved,]_

 _Zara uljhi laten sawaar loon, [Let me comb out my tangled tresses,]_

 _Har ang ka rang nikhaar loon. [and make every part of my body glow.]_

* * *

 _'Wear red tomorrow. Please.'_

Khushi looked at her reflection in the mirror and read his note again. She was wearing the only other red thing in her wardrobe – the red and pink salwaar suit that Anjali-ji had gifted her when Jiji had gotten engaged. It was one of the most beautiful things she owned, a more elegant version of what she usually wore, lacking the puffed sleeves and pom-poms but making up for it with its brightness and designs in gold and silver thread. She smoothed her hands over the dress, straightened her dupatta, and went out to wait at the dining table.

Jiji poured her a cup of tea while talking about flower arrangements for the wedding, but Khushi couldn't concentrate. She kept glancing at the clock, waiting for it to strike 9. At his knock, Khushi hugged her sister goodbye, promising to talk to Anjali-ji about pink roses, and stepped outside, carefully avoiding looking at Arnav-ji.

"R-ready?"

Startled by the way his voice shook, Khushi looked up at him. His eyes were making their way up her body, slowly, taking in every inch of her in a way that felt both wicked and perfect at the same time. Her heart thudded to a stop, only restarting when he realized he was staring and looked away.

He didn't start the car immediately, waiting until she was settled before reaching for something in the back seat. He came so close to Khushi that she could smell his cologne. Arnav-ji silently handed her a box, similar to the one he'd gifted yesterday, and Khushi found red and pink bangles inside it. They matched what she was wearing perfectly.

"How ... I mean ... You ..."

Khushi didn't even know how to ask the question that burned in her mind. Arnav-ji threw her a guilty look as he started the car, and the gentle notes of her favourite song from _Saudagar_ wove around them. He drove in silence for so long that she started thinking he wouldn't reply, but just as she opened her mouth to protest, he explained.

"AR ... AR made that dress. We're launching a new line next year, it's ..."

Khushi waited for him to continue, and when minutes had passed by in silence, asked "It's ... what?"

"It's inspired by you," he took a shaky breath, "I oversaw every step of the design process, had a say in every little detail."

 _Oh._

"Di doesn't know," Arnav-ji continued, "I gave it to her to give as a present. Those bangles were made especially for that dress, I thought you should have them."

Khushi looked down at her outfit and then back up at him, surprised by his confession and everything it implied. They were silent throughout the entire journey, but this silence was charged with anticipation. They were heading towards something, a decision, and their weeks – _months_ – of balancing on a knife-edge were finally coming to an end.

Neither of them moved when he parked the car in his driveway, unwilling to allow the rest of the world to intrude on this moment. Arnav-ji reached across and took the box from her.

"May I?"

Khushi nodded, unsure of her voice. He removed the three plastic bangles she was wearing – two red and one pink – before sliding on the new ones two at a time. Every caress of his warm fingers as they worked up and down her hand and across her wrist unmade her. Arnav-ji only released her when every bangle had been transferred from the box to her wrist.

"I'm not coming inside, I have a meeting at the office."

Khushi felt a pang of disappointment that he wasn't going to be around today, but hid it with a smile as she nodded. She left the note she'd written last night on her seat and edged out of the car. When she turned back at the door, Arnav-ji was still in the driveway, watching her. She waved, and he gave a small smile before backing out.

. . . . . . .

Arnav-ji still hadn't returned, and it was almost time for tea. Not that Khushi was waiting for him. Not that she'd spent most of the day anxiously looking at the front door, waiting for the rapid heartbeat and shortness of breath that signaled he was near.

 _I'm only worried about how I'll get home this evening. That's all._

She couldn't even convince herself.

Khushi toyed with the bangles he'd gifted her, pink and red and gold all mixed beautifully together, and wondered if he'd read her note yet. It'd taken a lot of courage to write it, but if he could ask her to wear red, then she could ask that of him. It was only fair.

Sighing, Khushi put aside her magazine cuttings – ideas for possible floral arrangements – and went to the kitchen. She needed a cup of tea to warm her up and clear her thoughts. She was standing on a stool, reaching for the big canister of sugar since the smaller one was empty, when she felt it. Her heart gave a loud, vigorous thud and her breath caught, and the next moment, she heard Om Prakash-ji greet Arnav-ji at the door. Her relief mingled with anxiety and confusion.

 _Is it possible to miss him when he's only been gone a few hours? Is it healthy?_

Khushi carefully placed the canister on the bench, and was about to get down when she realized that she hadn't returned the other containers to the shelf. She replaced them quickly, balancing precariously as she reached above her head.

"Careful, Khushi!"

Startled, she lost her balance, and the world tipped as she fell. The arms that caught her were strong, the chest she was cradled against was solid, and suddenly, Khushi couldn't breath. She kept her eyes closed, praying that the ground would somehow swallow her up so she wouldn't have to face him, but all that did was heighten her other senses. Khushi could hear his shallow breaths, feel the rapid beat of his heart under her palm, and smell that heady mixture of ocean and bergamot that was so uniquely him. When he spoke, it was a low murmur that she had to strain to hear.

"Do you wait for me to come into a room before you fall?"

Khushi's eyes flew open. Arnav-ji was looking down at her, his amusement clear in his expression. She tried to get down, but he held her closer.

"You made me fall," she accused.

Arnav-ji set her down gently, but kept his arms wrapped around her.

"Oh really? What did I do?"

"You ... you distracted me."

"Okay. I see," he was still smiling, but his eyes betrayed concern as he asked, "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"N-no, no I'm not hurt. I'm fine."

Khushi lowered her eyes and was startled to see that her fingers were twisted into his jacket. She quickly let go, but his hand was suddenly over hers, holding it still.

"You don't have to. Let go of me, I mean," his voice was low and rough.

"Chhote!"

They sprang apart seconds before Anjali-ji came into the kitchen, the five inches that had been between them turning into five feet. Khushi glanced at Arnav-ji and then at his sister, wondering what she'd seen.

"Chhote? Are you hungry? Can I make you anything?"

"No. It's okay ... I was just ... just ..."

Anjali-ji had her back to them, fiddling with the cook-top and a pot, so she missed the anxious glance that Arnav-ji threw at Khushi.

"Arnav-ji was helping me with the sugar. It was too high for me to reach."

Khushi waved the container in question around when Anjali-ji looked at her, trying her hardest to look convincing. Trying to look as though she hadn't been wrapped in Anjali-ji's brother's arms two minutes ago. Anjali-ji took the sugar from her, absently muttering about tea leaves, and didn't turn around when Arnav-ji left the kitchen.

. . . . . . .

He was still laughing about it on the drive home.

"What if Anjali-ji had seen us?" Khushi scowled.

"Are you saying I should've let you fall?"

"Let me fall? You made me fall in the first place."

"Uh huh. Yeah. Sure."

Khushi crossed her arms, the bangles he'd given her tinkling gently, mumbling, "Here's the _Laad Governor_. Causes problems and then expects praise for it."

"Why do you call me that?"

"Huh?"

"Why do you call me 'Lord Governor'?"

Khushi blushed. "Well ... uhh ... I thought ..."

She was saved from answering when he stopped the car in front of her home. Khushi struggled with the door, determined to escape, only to realise that Arnav-ji had locked it without her noticing.

"Let me out!"

"No," he chuckled at her distress, "You can't escape me that easily, Khushi Kumari Gupta."

He reached across and took her hand, opening her fingers to reveal her palm before placing a slip of paper there, right in the centre. He closed her fingers over it.

"Bye." A click echoed through the car as he unlocked the doors.

Unable to speak, Khushi alighted from the car and rushed to her front door, turning around to give him a short wave before going inside.

Later that night, she smiled as she unfolded the note he'd given her. She had to squint to read it - his penmanship was ... unique.

 _'Tell Bua-ji you'll be late tomorrow.'_

* * *

 _The lyrics are from 'Sajna Hai Mujhe' (Saudagar, 1973). The rough English translation is mine._

 _The red and pink salwaar suit is a version of the dress Khushi wore on the night of the Bali-in-Delhi honeymoon. It's my headcanon that Arnav had AR Designs make that outfit for her - it really is a more elegant version of her usual attire, and it's in his favourite colour._


	8. Chapter 8: Arnav

**Chapter 8: Arnav**

 _11th December_

* * *

 _Chura liya hai tumne jo dil ko, nazar nahin churaana sanam. [Now that you have stolen my heart, don't spurn me, my darling.]_

 _Badal ke meri tum zindagaani, ka_ _hin badal na jaana sanam. [Having changed my life so much, don't change yourself, my darling.]_

* * *

His bed looked like a department store had thrown up on it. A department store that specialized in black and almost-black clothes.

 _'Can you wear something other than black? No black, at all. Please.'_

It'd seemed simple enough when he'd first read Khushi's note, but Arnav had been standing here for half an hour, trying to get an outfit together that contained no black at all. His charcoal gray suit was with the launderers, and he'd already voiced his extreme displeasure at Om Prakash over the development.

 _Damnit. Why are all my clothes black? Wait._

Arnav settled on the dark gray suit and a blue shirt. He held the jacket up to the light and squinted at it.

 _It's a really dark gray. Maybe she'll think it's black._

He flung it onto the bed before collapsing on this sofa with a sigh. Khushi had done this deliberately, he knew. She wanted to see how far she could push him. She wanted him to suffer. Since backing down from her challenge was out of the question, he started to plan his revenge. He could ask her to wear something without pom-poms. Or maybe something Western, like a dress ... or jeans ... or a mini-skirt. He was just beginning to enjoy the thought of Khushi in a mini-skirt when his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"It's me speaking. What do I tell Bua-ji if she asks why I'll be late?"

"Tell her the truth, that you're with me."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny, Laad Governor-ji. Bua-ji will make chutney out of us both."

"Then tell her Di asked you to stay. An emergency. Khushi, I don't know, tell her anything," his voice lowered, "just don't say no."

"Okay ... I'll think of something. See you soon."

Arnav scowled at his bed after Khushi ended the call. He needed to make a decision. He called the first number on his speed-dial.

"Aman. I need a suit, tie, and shirt. No black."

"No black?" came the bewildered reply.

"Shut up Aman," he barked, "Don't repeat my words back to me. The light gray pinstripe suit from this season's collection and the white shirt that goes with it. Pick an appropriate tie. Have it all ready in fifteen."

Twenty minutes later he was studying his reflection in the mirror in Aman's office. It would have to do – he had to leave now or he risked being late.

. . . . . . .

"Ready?"

Khushi looked him up and down when she answered the door, a dazzling smile forming on her lips when she realized that he'd done as she'd asked. This morning's anxiety seemed a small price to pay for that smile. He held out a hand but Khushi shook her head, glancing nervously behind her to the living room before whispering "Bua-ji!"

Arnav shrugged and started walking, leaving Khushi to hastily shut her front door and follow. She ran to close the distance between them and halted him with a hand to his shoulder, applying gentle pressure until he turned. Smiling mischievously, she slipped a piece of paper into his hand before dashing to the car.

They didn't see each other for most of the day. Di and Khushi spent hours shopping for presents for the _Shagun_ ritual, returning in the late afternoon, and he was too busy dealing with an international crisis to accompany them. He took advantage of his sister's absence to organize everything for later, making sure no one saw him as he carefully packed his car.

Half an hour after she returned, Khushi delivered a cup of tea to his room. She carefully placed it next to his laptop and shuffled nervously.

"I told Bua-ji that I had to stay back because of an emergency," she started, "but Arnav-ji ... I don't like lying to her."

Arnav instantly felt wretched for asking her to do something that hurt her.

"I didn't think ... Look, I'll drop you home as usual, forget I said anything."

"No!" Khushi quickly interjected, wringing her hands "No, I didn't mean that I don't ... I want ... I want to go with you."

She avoided his eyes as she turned to leave, blushing. He reached out and grasped her _dupatta_ to halt her progress. Khushi turned with a gasp, outrage flaring in her eyes as she yanked at it, but he chose to stand instead of releasing her. Arnav tugged gently, forcing her to step towards him.

"Arnav-ji ..." her protest was weak.

He tugged again, pulling her closer. Another tug, and she was close enough to touch. She fell into his waiting arms with a final twist of his wrist. Khushi struggled briefly before relaxing against him, her arms wrapping around him.

"Do you trust me?" he asked softly.

"No," she shook her head against his shoulder as her arms tightened around him.

He let out a short laugh at her easily uttered untruth.

"I'll have you home as quickly as possible," Arnav promised, "I just want to show you something."

. . . . . . .

Later, Khushi sat quietly in the front seat as he drove out of Delhi. It took forty minutes for them to leave the city and drive up to the lookout. She gasped as he parked the car, dazzled by all of Delhi spread out below in a sea of blinking lights. Arnav pressed a button, and Khushi looked up in wonder as the panel above them disappeared to reveal a sunroof that extended almost the entire length of the car. It was his favorite thing about this SUV. Khushi grinned at him, and he reached over to squeeze her hand before sliding out of the car.

He folded up the back seats and created a space for them, into which he piled the blankets and pillows he'd brought. When it was ready, he led Khushi to the back and lifted her in, his hands lingering at her waist, and told her to make herself comfortable. Arnav left her briefly to switch on the heating and then climbed into the back with her. Khushi watched him, eyes wide, and he made sure to keep his distance. He found the last bag he'd packed and pulled out a thermos of tea, hoping that Khushi didn't notice the tremor in his hand as he handed it to her.

They sat across from each other, she cross-legged, hands wrapped around the thermos as she sipped, and he with one leg stretched out and the other bent at the knee. Music from her CD, a song from _Yaadon Ki Baaraat,_ played softly in the background.

"This is beautiful," she breathed, looking up at the band of stars that arched overhead.

Arnav smiled. "It is."

Khushi glanced at him, blushing when she realized he wasn't talking about the stars. He winked before handing her a container, and she squealed when she saw what was inside.

"Jalebi!"

She eagerly took one out and was half a second away from biting into it when she froze. "What about you?"

Arnav pulled out a smaller container, "Sugar-free."

Khushi frowned at her container before replacing the lid and putting it aside. She scrambled up, almost hitting her head on the roof as she came to sit beside him, dragging her blanket with her.

"I'll eat what you eat," she announced once she was settled, wrenching the plastic box out of his hands.

She held up an orange spiral, but instead of taking it, Arnav opened his mouth slightly and watched her carefully. Khushi hesitated before holding it to his lips with a trembling hand, so he wrapped his fingers around her wrist to steady her. When he'd taken a small bite, Khushi's hand fluttered back down to her lap, her eyes darkening and her smile slipping.

"I was so scared when you fainted in the kitchen," she spoke softly, "I didn't know what to do, and seeing you like that ... I was scared."

Arnav nodded, remembering how she'd taken care of him, rousing him to consciousness before feeding him a jalebi to help with his blood sugar. Deciding it might help if she knew more, he explained about the sugar and the insulin, the twice daily blood sugar checks, his medication and what it did, and the steps he usually took to avoid getting ill. Khushi listened intently, asking questions and repeating his answers back to him to make sure she understood.

They sat like that, shoulder to shoulder, for over an hour, meandering easily from one topic to the next, eating jalebi, telling stories, and counting the stars. Arnav had set an alarm on his phone in case they lost track of time, and it interrupted them as Khushi was telling him about a prank she'd played on her father as a child.

"I have to drop you home," he said quietly, watching as the happiness leeched away from her expression.

Khushi nodded and started to pack up. It was much quicker with her helping and soon he was putting the car into gear. She was uncharacteristically silent and still, and when they arrived at her house, made no attempt to get out of the car. Arnav walked over to her side and slipped his hand in hers, something twisting inside him at her misery. Khushi held his hand tightly.

"Don't go," her voice was small, plaintive.

There was a sharp ache in his chest as he slid his hand up her arm and cupped her face, bringing her closer and resting his forehead on hers.

"Khushi ..."

Taking a deep breath, she nodded and pulled away slightly. Her fingers crumpled the fabric of his new suit. Arnav reached into his pocket and showed her the note he'd written earlier. Khushi hopped down from the car and gave him a quick smile before walking away. She waved before she went inside.

At home, Arnav unfolded the note she'd handed him this morning and read it for the third time.

 _'I like calling you Laad Governor. It reminds me of how much has changed. You aren't who I thought you were.'_

* * *

 _The lyrics are from 'Chura Liya Hai Tumne Jo Dil Ko' (Yaadon Ki Baaraat, 1973). The rough English translation is mine._


	9. Chapter 9: Khushi

**Chapter 9: Khushi**

 _12th December_

* * *

 _Aankhon ki gustakhiyan maaf ho, ek tuk tumhein dekhti hain, [Forgive the impertinence of my eyes, they find you at every glance,]_

 _Jo baat kehna chaahe zubaan, t_ _umse voh yeh kehti hain. [They convey the words my lips want to say to you.]_

* * *

Khushi enjoyed watching Arnav-ji drive. He had a habit of frowning in concentration as he navigated the highway which she found endearing, and he glanced at her every time they stopped at a traffic light, causing her heart to beat erratically. He'd opted to go without his suit's jacket today, and the rolled up sleeves of his shirt revealed his forearms. She liked the way the muscles there tightened when he changed gears. Her eyes traced those muscles upwards, along his arm and across his shoulder, up to his face in profile.

Smiling, she thought about the note he'd given her last night.

 _'I'm not sorry for making you fall, because you fell into my arms.'_

"What are you looking at?" he interrupted her musings.

 _Oh Devi Maiyaa. How does he always know?_

"Nothing. I'm not looking at anything. Concentrate on the road."

One corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile but he didn't press the subject. Blushing, Khushi concentrated on the music filtering through the speakers and smiled when she realised that one of her selections - a Salman-ji song - was playing.

He didn't make a move to get out after he'd parked the car in his driveway, so Khushi followed his lead. She watched as he looked out his window, pursed his lips and then tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Several moments passed before he turned to her.

"Khushi ..." his voice was soft, "Look all you want. Whenever you want. It's your right."

* * *

 _The lyrics are from 'Aankhon Ki Gustakhiyan' (Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam, 1999). The rough English translation is mine._


	10. Chapter 10: Arnav

**Chapter 10: Arnav**

 _14th December_

Arnav jogged down the stairs, mentally making a list of clauses to add to the contract his legal team was working on while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. His eyes unerringly found Khushi when he looked up. She sat on the floor next to her sister, both of them surrounded by pink roses. She smiled at him briefly as he approached before turning her attention back to Payal.

"Arnav-bhaiya," Hari Prakash approached, "Anjali-didi is waiting for you in the kitchen."

Arnav exchanged another quick look with Khushi before walking away, finding his sister bent over a pot in the kitchen.

"I made _kheer_ for you, make sure you eat it," Di glanced at him, "We're all going to the temple for about an hour, but Khushi-ji is staying behind. We'll drop Payal-ji home but you'll still need to drive Khushi-ji home when she's finished with the floral arrangements. Make sure she doesn't take a rickshaw home."

Di stopped what she was doing.

"And Chhote, I know you two don't get along, but please be nice to her. She's fragile right now, that's why I invited her to help with the wedding. She's using it as a distraction from her ... from the engagement."

 _I know Di. I'm trying my best._

To his sister, he said, "I'll leave her alone if she doesn't come near me."

Arnav took the _kheer_ to his room, where he ate it while waiting impatiently for his family to leave. When they'd gone, he waited another ten minutes before venturing back downstairs. Khushi was still playing with the flowers, frowning as she looked between her efforts and the pictures in the magazine that lay open next to her.

"Hi."

He sat next to her on the floor, taking a pink rose from the pile next to him and absently toying with it. Khushi smiled at him.

"Arnav-ji. What are you doing?"

"Helping you."

She looked skeptical, "What do you know about table centerpieces?"

"Well ... I know they have to be made out of pink roses," he teased.

Khushi smiled and snatched the rose off him. "Arnav-ji, you don't have to waste your time here. Don't you have anything else to do?"

"No," he took another rose from the pile and tapped it to her nose, "I have nothing else to do."

Blushing, she turned back to her work. She was recreating one of the arrangements in the magazine, and as far as he could tell, she was doing an amazing job.

"Why didn't you go to the temple with everyone else?"

"Oh ..." Khushi's blush intensified as she studied the table, "I didn't ... I mean ... I ca-can't ..."

 _What the hell ... Why can't she ... Oh._

Arnav spent the next twenty minutes helping Khushi. He turned the pages of the magazine so she lost her place, hid the scissors, and exchanged the pink ribbon she was using with an orange one. He told her she looked beautiful when she was angry, watching as a blush stole across her cheeks and turned her nose red. She was quickly distracted from the earlier awkwardness.

He stole roses after she carefully counted them out and hid them behind his back, enjoying her confusion as she tried to work out what was happening. When she realized, she tried to reach around him to retrieve the stolen flowers, but Arnav blocked her every attempt. She practically climbed over him, calling him every name she could think of as she stretched, and they landed in a tangle on the floor. Khushi's laughter disappeared as she stared down at him, the moment becoming charged with the desire that lay unexplored between them.

His sister's words came back to him. _She's fragile right now_.

It was time to go.

"I'm going upstairs, Khushi," he gently untangled himself, "Come and get me when you're done."

She watched him leave.

* * *

 _Author's Note: Shyam doesn't exist in this AU, but Khushi still has a broken engagement to deal with. I will reveal what happened, don't worry!_


	11. Chapter 11: Khushi

**Chapter 11: Khushi**

 _16th December_

* * *

 _Aye ajnabi, tu bhi kabhi aawaaz de kahin se, [Hey Stranger, call out to me sometime,]_

 _Main yahan tukdon mein jee raha hoon, [I'm here, living broken-hearted,]_

 _Tu kahin tukdon mein jeen rahi hai. [You're somewhere, living in pieces too.]_

* * *

Khushi shivered despite the heat blasting from the vents of the car. They'd spent most of this morning in silence, but Arnav-ji broke it now.

"Did you get much sleep?"

She glanced at him. He looked as tired as she felt – their long hours of conversation last night had obviously taken a toll. Khushi nodded when he looked over, wanting to reassure him, but he wasn't fooled.

"Are you alright?"

She fiddled with her _dupatta_.

"Khushi? Talk to me."

What could she say? He'd made promises yesterday and last night, promises she'd always wanted but hadn't dared to hope for. But Khushi knew that things looked different in the cold light of day, and feared that his decision had changed in the hours between their goodbyes on the phone and his knock on her door.

 _What if he doesn't want to get married? What will I do without him?_

"Are you upset over yesterday? Do you ... regret it?"

His questions threatened to weaken her.

Did she regret yesterday? No. She couldn't bring herself to regret any moment she'd shared with him.

. . . . . . .

Yesterday, Khushi had made her way into his bedroom with her usual excuse of bringing him tea, intending to talk to him about Babu-ji's appointment next week. Arnav-ji had taken one look at her and admonished her for not wearing a shawl or cardigan to keep warm. Before she'd known what was happening, he'd wrapped her in his jacket. Her eyes had closed at the sensation, his scent enveloping her and his warmth slowly soaking into her. Lost in him, _in the feeling of being wrapped in his arms_ , she'd mumbled something – she didn't know what – and her eyes had snapped open when she heard him move.

The heat that had flared in Arnav-ji's eyes had both scared and thrilled her. Khushi, watching him carefully, had seen the instant he'd made a decision, the instant he'd allowed his iron control to slip, and she'd known what was going to happen before it did. She'd stopped thinking when he'd backed her against the wall, stopped breathing when he'd cupped her face. He'd whispered something unintelligible, cradled her head, and then pressed his lips to hers. Once. Gently.

Khushi had thought about this - she'd even dreamt about it - but those innocent thoughts hadn't prepared her for the reality. How could she have imagined the heat and electricity that had zipped through her, making her feel as though she would never be cold again. How could she have imagined the faintness, the feeling of coming untethered, so that it felt like he was the only thing connecting her to the earth. How could she have imagined _him_ , the rapid beat of his heart, the low groan that escaped him as she gasped, the strength and comfort of his arms as he crushed her against his body, holding her as he'd never done before.

Later, they'd escaped his house to drive to the hilltop and talk. It'd been tentative, awkward, punctuated with long silences, but it'd been _honest_. Arnav-ji had surprised her by mentioning marriage, saying that he respected her wishes and knew that she would expect nothing less if they were to be together. He'd said that he was willing to do anything to be with her.

Dazed, she'd agreed. But their plans to tell their families had ground to a halt when they'd realized that the news might upset everyone, so close to Jiji's wedding, and that his Mami might react badly. Unwilling to endanger the marriage that was already taking place, Khushi had reluctantly suggested that they wait. He'd agreed, a little too quickly for her liking, and that'd been the end of it. Her heart had still skipped several beats when he'd called to check up on her, and they'd spent most of last night talking and laughing - bonding - before he'd urged her to sleep.

But the intervening time had stolen the familiarity that had grown between them and replaced it with her anxiety. In the small hours of the morning, she'd realized that he'd never – _not once_ – said that he loved her.

. . . . . . .

"Khushi? I asked if you regret ... any of it."

She blinked, coming back to herself. Her gaze flicked to Arnav-ji briefly, but she looked away before he could read what was written there. The muscles that corded his arms were tense and his eyes flashed with anger when he turned to her.

"Answer me, dammit."

Khushi closed her eyes, willing her tears away, but made no attempt to answer. She reached out and flicked the radio off, silencing Udit Narayan-ji as he called out to the missing piece of his heart.

The car sped up steadily and Arnav-ji's movements became rough with frustration. The tyres squealed as he took turns too quickly. He thumped the horn repeatedly, cursing under his breath and throwing furious looks her way. Trembling, Khushi clutched at the door handle and the dashboard, trying to banish the images of her mother and father getting into a car, never to return. She whimpered as flashes of her childhood nightmares came back to her - the squeal of tyres, the scream of a woman, the crash of breaking glass. Arnav-ji looked over at her.

"Damn it to hell," he struck the steering wheel.

Khushi jumped at his sudden violence. The car slowed down. He drove with a lot more care for the next few minutes, and she realised that he'd remembered her fear of fast cars. She bit back a sob of relief and leaned back in her seat, her eyes falling closed again.

"Khushi, we're here."

Startled, she looked around, surprised to find them parked in his driveway already. His stare was burning through her, but she was afraid that he'd read all her insecurities if she turned to him. Arnav-ji waited a few more minutes before hitting the steering wheel again.

"Fine," he growled, "Fine."

He slid out of the car, slamming the door so hard that she jumped - again - before disappearing into his home. He didn't turn around once. Alone, she lost the battle against her tears.

. . . . . . .

Khushi spent most of the day in the living room, helping Anjali-ji prepare for the _Shagun_. She was distracted, barely able to carry on a conversation, and found herself glancing anxiously at the stairs more often than she could count. But he never came downstairs, not even to eat lunch, and Khushi's anxiety grew with every passing hour. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, she made tea for everyone and offered to take a cup to Arnav-ji. Anjali-ji watched her carefully as she walked upstairs.

There was no answer when she knocked on his door, so Khushi slowly pushed it open to peek in. Arnav-ji was asleep on his sofa, one of his arms bent behind his head and the other resting across his middle. She stepped inside carefully and placed the cup of tea on the low table next to him before kneeling by his side. He looked peaceful, boyishly vulnerable in a way she'd never seen his waking moments. Khushi watched the soft rise and fall of his chest, watched his eyes flicker as he dreamt, and realized that she didn't want anything else from life.

Arnav-ji was all she needed. He showed her how he felt every day. He never needed to say the words.

Some sixth sense alerted him to her close scrutiny. His eyes opened slowly and he blinked at her, unseeing, before abruptly sitting upright. Khushi blushed at having been caught as he squinted and rubbed his eyes. A smile started to form on his lips but it disappeared as he remembered.

"Get out," his eyes narrowed dangerously.

Her heart sank. She thought, briefly, of doing as he asked, but dismissed the idea.

"No."

"I said get out!" his voice rose with every syllable.

"Don't ..." she whispered, "please don't. Not again. Not after everything ..."

Khushi watched as his features registered shock before softening, as if he too recognised how close they were to falling into the battleground they always found themselves in.

"What do you want?" Arnav-ji asked, resting his elbows on his knees and dropping his head between his hands, "Why are you here?"

He frowned as she offered the cup of tea she'd brought. The silence stretched as she gathered herself.

"I came ... I came to talk to you ..." she began cautiously, "but you looked like you needed to sleep."

His hands made the cup look tiny and vulnerable as they wrapped around it. Khushi sympathised, having often felt the same.

"I was unsure," she continued in a whisper, "Afraid."

He froze. "Afraid of me?"

"No. Not of you," she took a deep breath, "Of ... this. I thought ... given time to think ... you might have changed your mind. I know you don't believe in marriage. Lavanya-ji ..."

Arnav-ji held her gaze, seeming to look deep inside her. He nodded at whatever he found. Standing up, he offered his hand and pulled her up from the floor when she took it. He gathered her close and placed a lingering kiss to her forehead, an unspoken apology for his earlier behaviour. Khushi watched as he strode over to his wardrobe, opening it to reveal a safe, and fiddled with the keypad. There was a low beep as it unlocked. Reaching in, he produced a small box.

"I meant every word, Khushi," he said, handing her the box.

The pounding of her heart drowned out everything else as Khushi opened it to reveal a ring. A diamond, cushion cut, surrounded by smaller stones and held in place by a thick diamond encrusted band that split in two around the stone. She looked up at him, noting the movement in his throat as he swallowed, seeing the flicker of his eyes as he looked down and then back up at her. He was as nervous as she was.

"When ... when did you get this?" Khushi's voice shook.

"The day I went to the office for a meeting. I had it in my pocket when you fell in the kitchen."

Arnav-ji took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly when she was unable to stop a tremor.

"Khushi," he reached over and took the ring out of the box, "I was going to give this to you after Aakash and Payal's wedding but I want you to have it now. Every time you look at it, I want you to remember that I'm _going_ to marry you, as soon as I can."

His eyes asked for permission, and when she gave a slight nod while stifling a sob, he slowly slid the ring into her finger. It was a perfect fit. They stood in silence, both staring down, absorbing the reality of this moment. He was smiling when he looked at her.

"Come here," Arnav-ji tugged on her hand, cradling her head against his shoulder and holding her close, "I promised I'd marry you, Khushi. I won't ever let you down again."

* * *

 _Lyrics are from 'Aye Ajnabi' (Dil Se, 1998). The rough English translation is mine._


	12. Chapter 12: Arnav

**Chapter 12: Arnav**

 _17 December_

* * *

 _Kitna pyara wada hai in matwali aankhon ka, [What sweet promises these intoxicating eyes are making,]_

 _Iss masti mein soojhe na, kya kar daalun haal. [I don't know what I'm going to do in my joy,]_

 _Mohe sambhal. [Steady me.]_

* * *

Payal answered the door when he knocked, inviting him inside for tea and breakfast. For the second time on two weeks, Arnav found himself seated on Bua-ji's couch, waiting for Khushi to make an appearance. Payal served him tea before settling down on the smaller sofa, explaining that it was only her and Khushi at home as her Bua-ji had gone to meet her Amma and Babu-ji at the station. They were returning from their healing retreat.

He made polite conversation with Aakash's fiancée, recognising with a jolt that they'd never had the chance to speak properly. He'd spoken to her twice - when he'd apologised for his role in breaking her marriage, and during the farce that Khushi had cooked up to bring Aakash and Payal together. He'd liked that she was honest and direct, polite and deferential, but not weak by any means. Now, as they discussed the next steps for Shashi's treatments, he started to understand her better.

She wasn't like his Khushi, that much was obvious. Like Aakash, she was soft-spoken and down-to-earth. The timbre of her voice changed when she spoke about her sister, however, and Arnav saw that she was as fiercely protective of Khushi as Di was of him. He still remembered the dressing down she'd delivered when he'd brought Khushi home, unconscious, after the incident in the guesthouse. The more time he spent with her, the more Arnav realized that, after Bua-ji, Payal might present the biggest hurdle in his and Khushi's plans.

Arnav looked up when Khushi finally came into the room. The serene, satisfied smile on her face let him know that she'd done this deliberately. She'd wanted him to spend time with her sister, this woman who was going to become his sister-in-law twice over. He smiled back at her, already plotting his revenge for her manipulation, and drained the last of his tea before standing up.

"Payal, do you want to come with us?" he asked, "Aakash is home today."

"Thank you, but no," Payal blushed, "Someone has to get the house ready for Babu-ji's return."

"Oh," Arnav turned to Khushi, "Do you want to stay back and help?"

"I ..." Khushi wrung her hands, "I already told Anjali-ji I was coming and she's organised for a jeweller to visit."

They hastily completed their goodbyes and left Payal waving at them from the front door. The first thing Arnav noticed when he sat in the driver's seat was that Khushi had brought another CD with her.

The second was that she wasn't wearing his ring.

Khushi organized the music while he drove, but looked at him in askance when he stopped the car as soon as they were out of sight. Arnav leaned over the console to kiss her, first her cheeks and then quickly, almost chastely, on her mouth. She gasped, and his fingers curled into a fist in an effort to remain in control. She wasn't ready for what he wanted.

"Hi," he whispered, "I missed you."

Smiling, she brought her hand up to caress his cheek. "Me too."

He took her left hand in his and then raised an eyebrow at her, watching as she blushed at his unspoken question. She reached into her bag and showed him the ring, tucked safely into its box.

"Why aren't you wearing it?" he asked, his tone sharper than he'd intended.

"What would I say when everyone asked questions? It's not ... subtle."

Hurt, he asked "Don't you like it?"

"I love it. But Arnav-ji, I can't wear it now, everyone will see and I don't want to lie about this as well. I'll wear it after the engagement, I promise."

Arnav threaded his fingers in her hair and brought her closer.

"Khushi, I need you to wear it."

"How?"

"I'll think of something."

He started to lean back into his seat, but Khushi reached out and stopped him. She tugged, and when he was close enough, quickly kissed his cheek. The sudden swell of emotion in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. Arnav placed her hand over his on the gearstick before turning the ignition, and they stayed like that for the entire drive home, her fingers tightening around his every time he changed gears.

. . . . . . .

"Hari Prakash!"

HP came running into his bedroom. "Yes, Arnav-bhaiya?"

"Isn't there any tea today? Usually ... usually someone brings me a cup after lunch."

"I'm sorry bhaiya, Khushi-ji is busy with Anjali-didi and the jeweller. I'll bring you a cup."

"No," Arnav sighed, "I'll go downstairs and get it myself. And HP ... You remember our deal, right? Don't breathe a word about Khushi to anyone else."

"I remember, Arnav-bhaiya."

As he followed HP downstairs, Arnav congratulated himself on his quick thinking regarding the servants. It was impossible to keep secrets from them, so he'd preemptively spoken to HP about keeping silent about anything he or his staff saw. So far, their arrangement was working well. In the living room, Arnav found his sister surrounded by velvet jewellery boxes. The jeweller sat between Mami and Nani, presenting them with box after box of precious metals and rare stones. Mami squealed with delight when she found a gold-and-ruby set that would match her newest sari perfectly and hurried off to the mirror to try it on.

"Chhote! What are you doing here?" Di smiled as he approached, distracted from a diamond necklace and matching earrings.

"I'm making sure that my money is being spent well," he teased, "I can't trust you."

"You're always teasing me," Di pouted, turning her attention back to the jewellery.

"Chhote," Nani indicated that he should sit by her, "I was looking at this set for your future bride."

Khushi looked up from the other side of the room where she was looking at rings. Arnav couldn't stop his eyes from straying to her.

"What future bride?" he growled, hating the anguish that flitted through Khushi's eyes.

"The one we'll pick out for you after Aakash is married. I'll take you to Lucknow and arrange lots of meetings with all the best girls. I still have many friends there who will help me find a suitable daughter-in-law."

Arnav watched Khushi carefully. Her hands had stilled on top of the rings she'd been examining and she was staring determinedly at her lap. He cursed himself for coming downstairs and triggering this conversation.

"Khushi should pick it out," he suggested to Nani, "She's from Lucknow, so she already knows my future bride better than I do."

Khushi didn't look up at this, but Nani exchanged a look with Di before nodding, leaving Arnav with the distinct feeling that he'd somehow been outmaneuvered.

"As you wish, Chhote. Khushi-bityaa, come and sit by me."

She made her way over and sat on Nani's other side, still avoiding his eyes. Di passed over the diamond set she'd been admiring.

"What about this for my future bhabi?"

Khushi didn't even look at the set.

"Nani-ji, Anjali-ji, I can't ... I can't pick out something ... for your f-future ..." she lapsed into silence.

"We insist," Di protested.

"I'm sorry, I have a headache, I'll ... I'll be right back."

Khushi fled to the kitchen. Arnav waited until Nani and Di turned back to the jewellery before following. He found her leaning against the cabinets, wiping her tears on her dupatta.

"Hey ..." he pulled her into his arms, "Ssshhhhh. Don't cry, Khushi."

She struggled in his embrace for a few seconds before relaxing.

"Arnav-ji," she shook against him from the force of her sobs, "They're talking about you ... your wedding ... and I can't ... What if they ..."

"Ssshhh. Do you think I'll let that happen?"

She turned her tear-streaked face to him.

"Come on, Khushi," he continued, "You know me. Do you think I'll let anyone take you away from me? You're mine."

"But Nani-ji said ..."

"Shush," he placed a finger on her lips, "Whenever anyone brings up my marriage or my bride, it's you they're talking about, even if they don't know it. Got it?"

She snuggled into him for a few minutes. Arnav took out his handkerchief and wiped her tears.

"Now, go out there and pick out some jewellery for yourself," he kissed her cheek, "Silly girl."

Khushi pushed him away with a small smile. "Laad Governor."

He waited a few minutes before following her back to the living room and resuming his seat next to Nani. The women were now examining sets of sapphire and diamond, with the jeweller eagerly showing them the biggest and most expensive pieces. But Khushi's hands kept straying to a smaller box. The white-gold and diamonds were shaped into a creeping vine, with sapphires embedded in it to look like fruit or flowers. Arnav stretched out a hand and picked it up, ignoring Khushi's stare. It was a complete set; a necklace, earrings, a bracelet, and a ring.

"This one," he held the box out to Di for approval.

"It's beautiful," his sister smiled as she examined the pieces.

When all the selections had been made and paid for, Arnav called HP to assist the jeweller in packing up as the women retreated to the dining room for their long-delayed tea. Making sure he was unobserved, he approached the jeweller.

"I need a white-gold necklace," he said, "a short one, and simple in design."

Nodding, the jeweller presented him with a box of necklaces that met his demands, and Arnav picked one after a some deliberation. His phone chimed with a text message as he was arranging payment.

 _You didn't have to buy that set for me._

He smiled as he replied.

 _I bought it for the future Mrs Arnav Singh Raizada._

 _No, you bought it for the future Mrs Laad Governor._

 _Shut up, Khushi._

. . . . . . .

"Here," Arnav handed Khushi a small box containing her new plain necklace.

They were sitting in his car, ready to drive back to Laxmi Nagar, with a classic song from _Caravan_ playing through the car's speakers.

"What's this for?" Khushi asked after she'd peeked inside.

Instead of answering, he reached into her satchel and took out the ring box.

"What the-" she exclaimed, before clamping a hand across her mouth and looking at him in wide-eyed astonishment.

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing!" she shook her head vigorously.

Arnav leaned over and kissed her quickly. "You sound more and more like me everyday."

"I do not."

"Mmmm," he made a noncommittal noise, "By the way, I like this song."

"I remembered."

He slipped the diamond ring onto the necklace as they bantered. Khushi watched him, struck suddenly silent, as he clasped it around her neck.

"The only time I want you to take this off is the day I return it as your engagement ring, okay?" he kissed her hair before leaning back in his seat.

Nodding, she arranged her _dupatta_ so it hid the necklace and the ring.

* * *

 _Song lyrics from 'Kitna Pyara Wada Hai' (Caravan, 1971). The rough English translation is mine._


	13. Chapter 13: Khushi

**Chapter 13: Khushi**

 _21st December_

The thrill of wearing his ring would never fade away. It'd only been four days since he'd gifted it to her, but Khushi had already taken it out dozens of times, slipping it on her finger and letting it catch the light when she was alone. It was beautiful, to be sure, but that wasn't why it fascinated her. It was a promise. _His promise_. Everyday, it reminded her that they'd dreamt a future together. A future that came closer with every hour that passed.

Khushi finished pouring the tea in Shantivan's kitchen. She had to talk to Arnav-ji about Babu-ji's appointment tomorrow. She carefully balanced a cup of sugar free tea and some snacks on a small tray and made her way across the house. Feeling someone's stare on her - that prickling at the back of her neck that spoke of close observation - she turned at the bottom of the stairs. Nani-ji and Anjali-ji were sitting on the couches, absorbed in preparing for the pooja they were hosting tonight. No one was paying any attention to her.

Arnav-ji looked up at her knock and threw her a brief, tight smile before returning to his laptop. Something had gone wrong yesterday, she knew, and he'd spent most of the night trying to fix it. Khushi sat on the floor, feet tucked under her, and carefully set the tray on the table. He frowned at this, but was distracted by a phone call before he could say anything.

Arnav-ji sipped the tea while talking, and in a brief pause, offered her the cup too. Khushi's pulse stuttered as she drank, the intimacy of sharing a cup still new and thrilling. She'd discovered that she didn't mind sugar free tea after all - although it helped to have _jalebi_ on hand to counter the lack of sweetness! When he was finished, Arnav-ji closed his laptop and removed the Bluetooth device from his ear, giving her his full attention. He frowned again, and then pulled her up to sit on the sofa beside him.

"Don't sit on the floor," he admonished.

Khushi looked down at their hands, where he was idly running his thumb over her knuckles, and then up at him.

"Arnav-ji, I don't think I'll be able to come over tomorrow."

"Why not?"

"Babu-ji has an appointment with the doctor. I was thinking that Jiji could come over and help Anjali-ji finalize some of the details, and I would go with Amma."

He sighed, releasing her hand and sliding backwards to lean against the back of the sofa.

"Okay. I'll send Aakash to pick up Payal in the morning, and I'll drive you and your parents to the hospital."

"No!"

"What do you mean, no?" his voice lowered.

"I mean ... Arnav-ji ... think about it! How would we explain why you're driving us? They only know that I worked for you."

"Firstly, you don't work for me, or anyone else in this house. Not any more. Secondly, I already drive you to and from Shantivan every day, I visited on Diwali, and my brother is marrying your sister. Is it such a stretch that I would offer to help?"

Khushi, seeing that he was on the brink of anger, reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. He used it to pull her into his chest, and they sat there for a while - he outstretched on the sofa, and she half-sitting, half reclining, her head on his shoulder and her hand over his heart.

"Khushi, would you stop me if we were married already?"

"No," she admitted.

"Then don't stop me now."

. . . . . . .

Later that afternoon, Khushi stood in the kitchen making Nani-ji a tonic for her headache. Anjali-ji had tried to stop her, saying that a servant could do it, but Khushi had insisted. Arnav-ji's family was hers too. The tonic was almost finished when she felt him approach. A minute later, his hands were on her waist as he stood behind her.

"Arnav-ji! Someone will see!"

"I don't care," his arms wrapped around her and his chin rested on her shoulder, "If it will make things difficult for you, then I won't drive you tomorrow. I'll send Mohan with the car. Happy?"

Smiling, Khushi leaned into him.

"You should come. The more time you spend with Amma and Babu-ji, the easier everything will be later. Plus," she turned and linked her hands behind his neck, "I think I'd miss you too much otherwise."

"Oh, you'd miss me, would you?" his smile was victorious.

"Of course. Who else would I scare with loud music in the car?"

"I'm not sc- ... Are you teasing me, Khushi Kumari Gupta?"

"No, I wouldn't dare to tease such a powerful and strong Laad Governor," Khushi giggled.

"Oh, really?"

Her breath caught as he leaned in, using his hands to hold her still before kissing along her jaw, her cheek, brushing her lips. Her hands slipped down from his shoulders to his chest, where her fingers twisted in his jacket. He teased her, his lips hovering over hers, barely touching, and she thought the anticipation would drown her. She contemplated whether she was brave enough to pull him that final millimetre closer and force a meeting of their lips. To initiate a kiss for the first time. She trembled in his arms. Her fingers tightened on his jacket. She closed her eyes.

"Khushi-ji, could you come and help me with something?"

He was gone instantly, leaving her heart pounding and her arms empty. Khushi turned around to see Anjali-ji looking at her phone as she walked to the kitchen. It didn't look like she'd seen anything.

Anjali-ji looked up.

"Oh. I thought I saw Chhote come this way."

"N-no, Anjali-ji. Wh-why would Arnav-ji be he-here?" Khushi tried to smile.

"Hmm. I really thought I saw him coming into the kitchen."

"No," Khushi's voice was high-pitched, strained, "I'm all alone here. All alone."

She gestured unnecessarily to the empty kitchen. Anjali-ji glanced around, and Khushi used her distraction to look for Arnav-ji.

 _Where did he go?_

She spotted movement behind the cabinet. He was between the wall and the cabinets. Khushi's anxiety heightened. She'd used that space to hide from him a few weeks ago and remembered that it was barely big enough for her. He was so much taller, so much bigger, Anjali-ji was sure to spot him soon.

Khushi tried to distract her.

"Anjali-ji, what did you need help with? I can help you right now."

Anjali-ji nodded, still looking around the kitchen, and started telling her about the seating arrangements.

A cough interrupted her.

Khushi panicked.

 _He's forever telling me to be silent and still. Why can't the Laad Governor follow his own advice now?_

"Khushi-ji, are you okay?"

Khushi coughed twice, "I think I have a sore throat. I've been coughing all day."

 _Oh Devi Maiyaa, please help me._

Anjali-ji narrowed her eyes but didn't comment, continuing her explanation.

Another cough, which Khushi tried to cover by coughing herself. Concerned, Anjali-ji started to rummage through the cupboards.

"I think you really need a tonic for your throat. You go and sit down, and I'll bring one out to you."

"N-n-no Anjali-ji," Khushi took two steps towards Arnav-ji, freezing when his sister turned around to face her.

"I insist!" Anjali-ji started to warm up water in a pot.

Khushi slowly made her way to Arnav-ji, taking a step every time Anjali-ji wasn't looking. When she was close enough, she peeked at him. He was cramped into the tiny space, folded into it like an accordion, and it would've been comical if his sister wasn't standing a few feet away. He looked at her pleadingly, and Khushi knew he wouldn't last much longer. She wrung her hands, trying to come up with a plan.

When Anjali-ji said that she needed a colander, Khushi nodded absently before realizing - with dawning horror - that it was kept in the cupboard next to Arnav-ji's hiding place.

"I'll get it for you!" she squealed.

Khushi mumbled an apology to Arnav-ji, who had to make himself even smaller so she could open the cabinet. There were a few seconds of awkward shuffling - and _a lot_ of hushed swearing - before she could reach what she needed. She squeezed his hand briefly before getting up and waving the colander at Anjali-ji.

"Here it is," she was breathless with fear.

Anjali-ji was surely going to notice any second now.

"Look, it's done," Anjali-ji announced, and Khushi hastily stepped away from Arnav-ji.

"Thank you Anjali-ji. I think you were right, I should ... uhh ... I should drink this sitting down. I should rest."

A few minutes later, as she was sitting on the couch between Nani-ji and Anjali-ji and sipping the bitter tonic, Arnav-ji walked across the living room.

"Chhote! Where were you?" Anjali-ji looked in the direction he was coming from, "I was looking for you earlier."

"I was ... I was outside."

"Outside?"

"Yes, outside. Look Di, I'm very busy today and don't have time for this. I'll see you later."

He walked upstairs, turning at the top to throw Khushi a wink before disappearing. Looking around, she saw Anjali-ji frowning as she looked between them.

Her phone beeped with a text.

 _Don't think our conversation is over, Khushi Kumari Gupta._

She remembered how tightly he'd held her, how close he'd been to kissing her, and blushed.


	14. Chapter 14: Arnav

**Chapter 14: Arnav**

 _25th December_

"Why are you hissing like that? It's hurting me, not you."

Arnav sat on his sofa while Khushi held his hand, hissing through her teeth as she tended to the gash across his palm. She applied antiseptic cream and blew on it to ease the burn.

Her eyes were wide-eyed and earnest when she looked up, "I know how much it must hurt. I can't stand it when you're in pain. And you were hurt helping my father."

Her concern for him touched something deep inside.

Arnav had gotten hurt while unloading her father's wheelchair from the car yesterday. In hindsight, he realized that he shouldn't have forced Khushi to let him drive them. His car wasn't properly equipped for handling the wheelchair and it was too high off the ground. If Khushi had gone without him, she would've arranged more appropriate transport.

"Arnav-ji! Sit still!"

He hadn't realized he was moving. "Sorry."

Still, Arnav thought it'd been a fruitful day despite the incident with the wheelchair. Khushi's Amma had been incredibly nice, thanking him repeatedly and asking him questions about what he did. He liked her; she was direct, thoughtful, and honest, traits she'd passed on to her daughters. He suspected that she saw, and understood, more than she let on. She had little in common with Bua-ji, which honestly, was a relief. Bua-ji was warm - extremely kind at heart - but prone to exuberance, whereas Garima-Aunty seemed more sedate.

Arnav also liked Khushi's father.

When they'd met for the first time on Diwali, he'd been shocked to see how unwell he was. He'd known that Khushi's father had suffered a stroke. He'd paid the hospital bill himself and seen the list of treatments that had been administered, but seeing Shashi-Uncle in the wheelchair, unable to talk, was something else entirely. In the weeks that had passed, however, Uncle had made significant progress. He'd smiled at Arnav and seemed well on the way to recovering movement in his arms.

"Pass me the bandage."

Arnav handed her the roll. Khushi didn't look up as she wrapped his hand, frowning in concentration, and her fingers were gentle on his skin. He'd hidden the wound yesterday but he hadn't been able to hide the bandage this morning. Predictably, she'd scolded him for the entirety of their drive before insisting that she be allowed to tend to it herself.

He'd taken the doctor aside after Uncle's appointment, and had been told that while the progress was remarkable, it could be years before Khushi's father regained the use of his legs. That afternoon, after dropping Khushi and her family in Laxmi Nagar and getting his hand checked by a doctor (he was relieved that he wouldn't need stitches), Arnav had called Aman. He'd asked his manager to look for a car that could be modified to accommodate all of Uncle's needs, including a ramp in the back for easy access and floor restraints to hold the wheelchair in place while they drove. His only stipulation was that the car be white and less than two years old. If Shashi-Uncle was going to be in a wheelchair for a while then Arnav didn't want them riding in taxis and buses.

If Aman had any questions about why Arnav was looking at a new car after purchasing a Honda sedan last week, he didn't ask. Arnav had bought it for Khushi – she couldn't learn to drive in the Toyota – and he hoped that she'd like it. Instead, Aman had reminded him that the new purchase would bring the Shantivan fleet to a total of six vehicles and that the garage would need to be extended. He'd arranged for an architect to visit next week.

Khushi, finished with her ministrations to his hand, pressed a lingering kiss to his wrist before resting her head on his shoulder. Her fingers traced idle circles on his upper arm.

"Are you still not talking to me?" Arnav took her hand and twined their fingers.

"No. I'm not talking to you. Why didn't you tell me that you were hurt?"

"Hmmm, it sounds a lot like you are talking to me," he kissed her temple.

"No."

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each finger in turn. "I didn't want you to worry."

Khushi lifted her head to look at him.

"I'm not made of glass. I won't break. I can handle it."

 _I know baby. But I need to protect you._


	15. Chapter 15: Arnav

**Chapter 15: Arnav**

 _27th December_

* * *

 _Pehli nazar mein kaise jaadu kar diya, [What magic did you cast in that first glance,]_

 _Tera ban baita hai mera jiya. [That my heart has become yours.]_

 _Jaane kya hoga, kya hoga kya pata, [What will happen, who knows what will happen,]_

 _Is pal ko milke aa jee le zara. [Let's just live this moment together.]_

* * *

"Di, relax. We're fine."

"But Chhote, how did the car break down?"

"I don't know. At least there's a garage near Khushi's house. They said it won't take more than a few hours to repair. We'll home by lunch, I'm sure."

"I'll send Mohan-ji with another car."

"Di, it's okay. Khushi's house is just here, we'll be fine."

He spent a few more minutes trying to convince Di not to send another car, or worse, check on them in person. Khushi stared at him from the passenger seat.

Her questions started as soon as he ended the call.

"Did the car break down?"

"Yes," he said, turning the ignition.

"So, we can't go anywhere?"

"Exactly. We're stuck next to your house," he pulled the car into traffic, driving out of Laxmi Nagar.

Khushi gasped.

"The car is fine! There's nothing wrong!" she turned to him, scandalized.

"No. The car won't start. It's with Happy Singh and we're waiting for him to fix it."

"But, but ..." she spluttered, "Arnav-ji, why are you lying?"

Arnav shrugged. Khushi was silent for some time, but started again when she realized they were heading away from Delhi.

"Where are we going?"

"Shut up, Khushi."

"What! Don't talk to me like that! Where are you taking me?"

Khushi asked questions non-stop for ten minutes before giving up, angrily folding her arms across her chest and looking out the window. She muttered to herself, calling him 'Laad Governor' and proposing punishments. The one involving pushing him into the pool sounded fun, if she was there with him.

At a traffic light, Arnav reached into the glove box and took out a blindfold.

"Put this on."

She was outraged instantly, her eyes widening as she gaped at him.

"I am _not_ wearing that."

"Yes, you are. Quickly, before I pull over and do it myself."

"If you stop the car then I'll run away," Khushi announced, a challenge glinting in her eyes.

"Okay. Good luck finding your way back home."

"Would you ... would you really leave me on the side of the road? Again?"

Arnav glanced at her. All traces of amusement had disappeared from her expression. She looked ... heartbroken.

"Khushi, no," he reached over and took her hand, "I was just ... look, just put the blindfold on, please."

She huffed before tying the blindfold on with all the grace of a child eating their vegetables before they were allowed dessert. Arnav used the buttons on the steering wheel to turn the music up, trying to distract her with the CD she'd brought the other day.

"What are we listening to?" he made his voice soft, gentle, an entreaty for peace.

"It's called _Pehli Nazar Mein_ ," came her begrudging reply, but then she followed it with a softly spoken confession, "It reminds me of us."

They listened in silence and he came to see why it reminded her of their journey. It was a nice song.

"And what about this one?" he asked a few minutes later.

" _Tere Naam_. It's a Salman Khan song," she answered with a small smile.

She'd never said anything, but he'd noticed she favoured Salman Khan. He locked that information away for future reference.

Arnav recognized the next song, _Pyar Kiya To Darna Kya_ , and the one after that, _Raat Kali Ek Khwab Mein Aayi_. Khushi put a lot of effort into the music she picked for the car, always making sure she included songs he'd enjoy alongside her choices. It was a small gesture, but it never failed to touch him, especially when he'd realized how closely she'd paid attention the one time they'd talked about old movies and songs.

And sometimes, just to tease him, she included something he loathed.

The music couldn't distract her forever.

"Are you kidnapping me?"

"No."

"I think you're kidnapping me."

"You're not a child, Khushi. I'm ... I'm Khushi-napping you"

"Are you asking for a ransom? My parents won't be able to afford it. You'll have to pay it yourself."

"We're almost there," he couldn't stop a grin, "Why would I pay your ransom? Who am I to you?"

"You're my fianc— No one, you're no one," she crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out in his direction.

Luckily, they arrived at their destination before she could start another argument. Arnav opened her door but didn't help her out. Instead, he watched her. Khushi really had no idea how tempting she was. She tilted her head towards him.

"I can hear you breathing."

Arnav checked they were alone before leaning towards her.

"Really? What else can you hear me doing?"

Khushi stilled when she realized how close he was. Arnav ran two fingers across her cheekbone, along the edge of the blindfold, and followed it to where she'd knotted it behind her head. He kissed along her jawline, up to her cheek, and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth as he untied it. She blinked at him, her eyes adjusting to the light, and then looked around.

"A fair? We're going to a fair?" Khushi grinned.

"Yes," he lifted her out of the car.

She spun around, dancing in her excitement, and he couldn't resist catching her in his arms and kissing her again. And then once more. She tried to run away, but he caught her and brought her against his body, her arm twisted behind her.

"You're beautiful."

Blushing, she hid herself in his chest, and they stayed like that until she squirmed away. He followed Khushi though the makeshift car park. She bounced as they stood in line for tickets, telling him about the fairs she'd visited with her family as a child and her favorite things to do. Unsurprisingly, most of her enjoyment came from the food and the dancing.

They spent half the day roaming from one end of the fair to the other. Khushi ate her way through a mountain of food, stopping at every stall they found, and dragged him on every ride that caught her eye. She only let go of his hand when she absolutely had to, and then was quick to capture it again. Arnav spent twenty minutes – and a lot of money – playing a rigged game to win her stuffed toy, but he would've gladly given up more time and money for the smile and quick kiss she gifted him in return.

When they stopped for a break, she found a dance troop and danced with them as he watched, reminding him strongly of their trip towards Nainital. Although he didn't dance when she pulled him out with her, he lifted her up and spun her around as the drummers danced around them. Khushi waved her arms in the air, giggling, and clutched at his shoulders when he pretended to lose his grip on her.

"Arnav-ji!" she scowled, pinching his arm in retaliation.

"Don't start something you can't finish," he warned as he set her down.

But Khushi wasn't listening. "I'm going to tickle you until you say sorry."

She tried, her fingers eagerly roaming up and down his sides and across his torso.

"Aren't you ticklish?" she asked with a pout after an unsuccessful minute.

"No. I never have been. I used to pretend to laugh when Di tickled me."

"Awwww, that's so cute!"

"But you can keep trying," he invited, punctuating his words with a wink, "maybe I'll feel ticklish soon."

Khushi looked down, where her fingers were idly tracing their way across his stomach, and gasped.

"You're shameless!" she accused, hiding her hands behind her back as if they'd misbehaved without her permission.

"Me!? You're the one touching me like that in public," Arnav indicated to the drummers and dancers still twirling around them.

He grinned as she blushed.

They reached Shantivan after lunch, Khushi still flushed from excitement, and had to repeat their story about the car breaking down. Di looked from the grin on Khushi's face to the smile on his.

"Well, it looks like you two had fun waiting in Happy-ji's garage this morning."

* * *

 _The song lyrics are from 'Pehli Nazar Mein' (Race, 2008). The rough English translation is mine. The video is in the media section :)_

 _The other songs referred to are: 'Tere Naam' (Tere Naam, 2003); 'Pyar Kiya Toh Darna Kya' (Mughal-e-Azam, 1960); Raat Kali Ek Khwab Mein Aayi (Buddha Mil Gaya, 1971)_


	16. Chapter 16: Khushi

**Chapter 16: Khushi**

 _28th December_

Khushi ignored the magazine in her lap in favor of watching Arnav-ji as he worked. They were alone in his house – his family had gone somewhere for the rest of the afternoon – and he'd decided to work in the living room so they could be together. Khushi sat sideways on the couch, her back against the armrest and her feet tucked under his leg for warmth. His fingers traced random patterns on her ankle every now and then.

She realized she could spend all day cataloguing her favorite things about him. His hands, so much bigger than hers, but soft and gentle every time they touched her. His arms, strong and wrapped in muscle, the black shirt he wore doing little to hide their definition. His chest, warm and solid, where she found peace in the strong, steady beat of his heart. His eyes, warm and soft and brown, which blazed with emotion and told her, every day, just how deeply he felt for her. His smile, which appeared more often these days and never failed to inspire an answering smile in her. His rare laughter, rich and sincere, which melted something inside her and made her hungry for him in a way she didn't understand.

Khushi realized she was staring, and that he was watching her just as intently. The space between them suddenly buzzed with electricity. Her hands itched with the need to touch him.

"What are you thinking, right now?" his voice was a low, rough whisper.

She shook her head, but he wasn't in the mood for defiance. Arnav-ji pulled her legs so that she slid into his lap, her arms locking around his neck instinctively.

"Show me."

She fiddled with his collar. When Khushi looked up at him, his expression was encouraging; so full of love that her heart stuttered in response. Her hands shook as she leaned closer.

 _Khushi, you can do this. He does it to you all the time. Just lean in and ... and ..._

The first brush of her lips against his was tentative, barely a whisper of a touch, but his hands still tightened at her waist in response. She was braver the second time. Khushi blushed as a sigh escaped him, and hid herself so he wouldn't see.

Arnav-ji's entire body shook as he laughed.

. . . . . . .

 _29th December_

"What the hell was that out there?"

Khushi calmly placed the cup of tea on the table before turning to face Arnav-ji. He'd been pacing the length of the pool but now he stood still, waiting for her answer.

"What did I do?"

"What were you doing with that stupid NK? He was holding your hand, Khushi. He was flirting with you, and I didn't see you object."

Khushi looked up at him. His eyes blazed, his fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly. She smiled.

"Are you jealous?"

In two seconds he was towering over her, standing so close that her breath stalled.

"Stop smiling," he growled, "this is not funny."

Khushi's smile faded away as she took him in, only now realizing the depth of his rage. He looked undone, as if he was barely holding himself back from marching downstairs and taking out his anger on Nanhe-ji. She reached up and held his face between her hands, hoping to calm him.

"Arnav-ji, we were just shaking hands and talking. He's your brother and he's visiting for the wedding. We're just being nice to each other."

"That wasn't 'being nice'. He was touching you, Khushi. You might be treating him as my brother, but that's not what he's seeing."

"Don't you trust me?" she couldn't keep a tremor from her voice.

Arnav-ji froze, most of the anger draining from his eyes as he, _finally_ , looked at her properly.

"No, baby, no. I didn't mean that at all," his hands came up and threaded in her hair as he kissed her forehead before folding her in his arms, "I trust you, Khushi. That's not what this is about."

She nodded against his chest, holding him tighter. "He was just being nice, Arnav-ji. You have no reason to be angry."

Arnav-ji moved her dupatta aside to reveal the necklace and ring she hid from the world.

"You're mine, Khushi. Mine. And I can't stand anyone messing with what's mine."

"Okay. Okay, I'm yours," she kissed him quickly, "but I'm capable of taking care of myself. If I ever feel that he, or anyone else, is misbehaving with me, I'll let you know. But until then, you have to let me handle this. He's only being friendly, I promise you."

"Khushi, I know you," he gave a slight smile, "You can't tell that a man's flirting with you until he backs you against a wall and leans in to kiss you."

She smiled too, glad that his mood had lightened.

"I knew what was happening," she claimed, "I just wanted you to work hard for it. I was successful too. You chased me to the other side of the house just to spend time with me."

"Oh, really? Was spraining your ankle part of your master plan too?"

"Yes."

He chuckled, but the light in his eyes dimmed as he remembered.

"Khushi, I'm ... I'm sorry about-"

"Shush," she interrupted him by placing a finger on his lips, "You said you wouldn't apologize again. What's done is done."

Arnav-ji nodded and kissed her finger. Still holding her by the waist, he took a step forward, forcing her to step back.

"What are you doing?"

"Do you still have that red sari?" he ignored her question in favour of asking one of his own.

"Y-yes," Khushi breathed as he forced her to take another step backwards.

"That sari is devastating to my senses," he whispered his confession in her ear.

She shivered as he forced her to take two steps backwards.

"Will you wear it for me, after we're married?" his voice was rough, full of a wickedness that set her pulse racing.

She nodded, incapable of speech in the face of the naked desire that burned in his eyes. He used the weakness of her body to maneuver her and she was pressed against the wall of his bedroom before she knew what was happening. He leaned close, heat radiating off him, and her body responded as it had on Diwali. She could hardly draw breath. Fire coursed through her veins as his hands came up to frame her face.

"Arnav..."

"Ssshhhh," he soothed, "Let me finish what I started that night."

The first press of his lips against hers was soft and reassuring. He leaned back slightly to gauge her reaction before returning, and this time, her world swirled out of control. Her eyes fluttered closed. The warmth of his mouth sent lightning zipping through her, flashes of heat that began somewhere deep inside and ended at her fingertips. His arms went around her and he pulled her hard against his body. Her fingers found his hair. He'd kissed her before, but it had never been like this. Those had been candles, soft and gentle.

This was an explosion of heat and light. A firework.

One of them made a sound, somewhere between a growl and a moan, and reality intruded. He lingered after they broke apart, his hands tangling in her hair as he rested his forehead against hers, both of them breathing hard. Khushi pressed her fingers to her lips. She was still dizzy, and the world seemed too vivid, too bright.

"You ... just called me Arnav."

She frowned, her sluggish thoughts struggling to make sense of his words. "No I didn't."

"You did. And now I want you to call me Arnav every time we're alone."

"N-n-no."

"No?"

Arnav-ji stepped back, giving her space, and she used it to escape by ducking under his arm.

"Khushi ..." he called as she reached the doors leading inside.

She turned.

"You'll call me Arnav," he drawled, "I can be very ... persuasive."

Khushi blushed as she fled, her body singing.


	17. Chapter 17: Arnav

**Chapter 17: Arnav**

 _30th December_

Khushi had danced, and danced, _and danced_ with NK, and Arnav had burned, his mind whirling with thoughts that only made him angrier.

When the choreographer - the esteemed Madhubala who'd been the focal point of many a childhood nightmare - had asked him to dance, he'd declined. First politely, and then not so politely. Nothing, _nothing_ , was going to make him dance in front of an audience. Not Aakash's wedding. Not even being partnered with Khushi.

Madhubala, seemingly unfazed, had quickly replaced him with NK - any of the groom's brothers would apparently do - and he'd been forced to watch as his bumbling cousin had stared at Khushi, stepped on her toes, butchered the Hindi language to apologise and make simpering conversation, and _touched_ her.

NK staring into Khushi's eyes, his hands on her waist, on her back, holding her close ...

 _Get. A. Grip. Arnav._

His jealousy, unreasonable though he knew it to be, pulsed a song in his veins - _You don't deserve her. You aren't good enough_.

His anger had risen, a red tide that he'd barely kept in check. He'd returned, again and again, to watch them, unable to concentrate on his work. He'd tortured himself with the sight of them, knowing that - if not for his pride - it would've been him standing with her, running his hands over her lush form, breathing in her scent, watching her smile as he spun and dipped and twirled her.

When she'd escaped to his bedroom after lunch, as he'd known she would, his control had slipped. He'd closed the doors to his bedroom and backed her against them in one swift, calculated move, and before she'd even uttered one syllable, his hands had been on her. Her shoulders, her back, her waist, her arms, her wrists, her hands. Reclaiming - frantically, _irrationally_ \- the parts of her that NK had touched.

And would touch again.

And again.

 _She's going to be your wife, Arnav. She deserves more from you._

He'd dipped his head to capture her lips, but her hands had gently pushed him away. He'd blinked at her in confusion.

"I know how you feel," she'd said, "and I understand. But you're forgetting what I said yesterday."

"I didn't forget," he'd breathed against her cheek, desperate to kiss her.

Forget? How could he forget? Her naive claims that NK's interest didn't go beyond treating her as the bride's sister, her innocent claim that NK was just being friendly.

 _Mine, mine, mine._

His pulse echoed the mantra his mind had chanted all morning.

"Baby, please."

And then _Khushi_ had reached up, initiating a kiss that began as chaste and ended with both of them gasping for breath.

 _Damn, she's a quick study._

. . . . . . .

The afternoon found Arnav and Khushi seated at the dining table, surrounded by most of his family and half of hers. Nani and Bua-ji discussed Madhubala's formidable nature as NK, in the seat opposite Khushi, asked her about some dance move they'd learnt today. Khushi, apparently not recognizing the blatant flirtation, happily started to demonstrate. Jealousy filled his blood. He pressed his lips together to stop the outburst that formed on his tongue. But it all ebbed away as he watched her.

She was beautiful and vibrant, her eyes flicking up and down expressively as she twisted her hands in circles. Her smile was radiant.

Arnav distractedly raised his cup of tea to his lips, still enchanted by the gorgeous girl next to him, and startled when it burnt him. Khushi looked at him in askance and he shook his head slightly to convey that there was nothing to worry about. When she glanced at him anxiously for the third time in two minutes, he reached over and took her hand under the table, running his thumb over her knuckles to reassure her.

NK intruded on the moment with his clumsy praise of Khushi's dancing, and she looked down and away, finally made uncomfortable by his attention. Arnav couldn't stop himself from glaring at his cousin.

. . . . . . .

 _1st January_

* * *

 _Koi bole dariya hai, k_ _oi maane sehra hai [Some say it's a sea, some say it's a desert]_

 _Koi sone sa tole re, koi maati sa bole re [Some equate it with gold, some say it's as dirt_ _]_

 _Koi bole ke chandi ka hai chhura [Some say it's a knife made of silver]_

 _Hota aise ye mauke pe, roka jaaye na roke se [It happens at such a time, you can't stop it if you try]_

 _Achha hota hai, hota ye bura [It's good, and it's bad]_

 _Kaisa ye isq hai ... ajab sa risk hai.. [What is this love ... It's a strange risk]_

* * *

Arnav smiled as he watched Khushi mime playing an accordion in time with the music. It was from the newest CD that she'd made for their car rides, and of the music she'd introduced him to, one of his favorites. She looked gorgeous in yellow and red today, and the red bangles from the set he'd gifted her weeks ago adorned her wrists.

Her energy was surprising considering how late they'd all – he, Khushi, Aakash, Payal, and NK – been awake last night for New Year's Eve. In contrast, Arnav was so tired that he'd skipped the jog this morning, opting to sleep for an extra forty minutes.

The last notes of the song faded away – she'd told him it was called _Isk Risk_ – as Arnav sipped the coffee Khushi had thoughtfully made him from a thermos. She really was perfect.

"Arnav-ji! I had an idea this morning!"

 _Here we go._

"Mmmm?" he hummed around the thermos, quirking an eyebrow to let her know that she had his attention.

"Why don't we have a competition between the families for the Sangeet? Your family against mine. Then Nanhe-ji can't dance with me."

 _And you won't be so jealous._

She didn't say the words, but she didn't need to.

Arnav nodded.

"Ask Nani and see if she likes the idea. But Khushi," he took her hand and squeezed it tightly, "we won't let the competition come between us, okay?"

* * *

 _The song lyrics are from 'Isk Risk' (Mere Brother ki Dulhan, 2011). The rough English translation is mine._


	18. Chapter 18: Khushi

**Chapter 18: Khushi**

 _9th January_

 _Come outside._

Khushi looked at the text that'd just arrived. Confused, she threw on a shawl and ran to the front door. Arnav-ji was standing in the doorframe when she opened it.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here, Arnav-ji? It's past midnight."

"I know," he offered his hand, "I missed you."

They sat on the divan outside. He'd insisted that Khushi wrap a blanket around herself, and she kept glancing at him, worried that he was cold.

"I .. uhh ... I actually came here to tell you something," he avoided her eyes, looking uncharacteristically anxious.

Her heart thudded in fear.

 _What could be so important that he drove here at midnight to tell me?_

"Khushi, the thing is, I've been hiding something from you."

He reached out to take her hand and then stopped, seeming to rethink the action. He sighed.

"There's no easy way ... Khushi ... I've been married before."

The world faded away. All she could hear was the rushing of blood in her ears and the echo of his words. _I've been married before_. It felt like a pit had opened in her stomach and threatened to swallow her whole.

"Wh-what?"

"It was before I met you. I don't even know where she is now."

Khushi gathered herself up, her sorrow quickly turning into the kind of anger that burns quick and bright.

"You were almost engaged to Lavanya-ji, and now you're telling me that you were _married_? How could you, Arnav-ji? How could you hide something like this from me?"

Arnav-ji looked away. "I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

"Tell me everything. Right now!"

"Sshhhh Khushi, all of Laxmi Nagar can hear you."

She hadn't realized her voice had risen.

"Okay, fine," she fought the tears that threatened to overwhelm her, "Get in the car, let's go somewhere where we can talk."

He drove them the lookout he'd taken her to weeks ago. Delhi lay stretched out below them, a reflection of stars that shone above. Khushi broke their silence as soon as they were parked.

"Tell me everything. Don't leave anything out."

He fiddled with the steering wheel as he spoke.

"Like I said, it was a long time ago. Our friends thought it was a good idea, and I guess we had nothing better to do, so we agreed."

Khushi frowned.

"It was arranged in a couple of hours actually," he continued, "One of our friends was the priest. We took vows in front of a fire. We used powdered chalk for _sindoor_. Her _mangalsutra_ was a chain of flowers, and the ring she gave me was made of ... licorice, I think? It was something edible."

 _What?_

"Afterwards, everyone said we had to kiss, so I kissed her on the cheek. But I didn't want any germs so I spent the rest of the day with a bottle of mouthwash."

"How ... how old were you?"

"Uhh ... I think I was seven. She was six, I think, slightly younger than me."

Khushi let out a breath of shaky laughter.

 _Seven. He'd been seven._

Khushi only realized how tense she'd been when her entire body relaxed, relief spreading through her like a soothing balm. Without warning, she burst into tears.

"Hey, hey ..." Arnav-ji reached over to stroke her hair, "Khushi, it was a joke. Sssshhhh."

He pulled her over the console so she was sitting in his lap, her back against his door and her feet on the passenger seat. He held her tightly, shushing her and stroking her hair as she cried into him.

When she was slightly calmer, Khushi pulled away.

"How could you do that?"

"I wanted to spend some time with you," he smiled, no _grinned_ , as though this was hilarious, "You wouldn't have agreed to come out with me so late at night. And it was true, that really did happen."

"How could you?" she punctuated her words with blows to his chest, first light, and then harder as she realized how angry she was, "Who do you think you are? How can you sit there smiling like that? Do you even understand what I went through? How can you be so cruel?"

He let her vent for a while but caught her arms when he'd had enough, the first stirrings of anger burning in his eyes. He forced her arms around him. Arnav-ji held her tightly, tangling his fingers in her hair as he ignored her struggles, and slowly, her anger and fear seeped away. Khushi clutched at him, desperately trying to bring him closer, trying to convey what she was feeling without words.

He pulled away, still cradling her head with his hand, and asked, "Are you okay?"

Khushi nodded, the movement dislodging the last of her tears. He tracked their progress down her cheeks, into the hollow where her lips began, and kissed her there, at the corner of her mouth. She shivered.

Arnav-ji wiped her tears and kissed her forehead. "I won't do that again."

He gathered her close, and they stayed like that for an age. But Khushi still needed to fix everything; needed to reclaim the part of him she'd briefly thought she'd lost. She kissed his cheek, working her way slowly to his lips, where she kissed him as thoroughly as she knew how. He shuddered, and then whispered in her ear.

"I'm going to try something. You can stop me anytime, I promise."

When he kissed her, it was a kiss that spoke of comfort and love. Her eyes closed as warmth spread through her. Then, he did something else. He invaded her - it was the only way she could describe it - and she pulled away with a gasp.

"What are you doing!?" her voice was a high pitched squeal.

 _Had that been ... his tongue?_

"Kissing you," he smiled, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"No," Khushi said decisively, "that was ... you were ..."

"That's how people kiss," he brushed the hair from her face with his fingers, "Trust me."

She thought back to all the kisses she'd seen in movies.

"You're lying," she accused confidently, "There's none of ... that ... stuff ... in any of the kisses I've seen."

"I keep telling you, you need to watch Hollywood movies with me."

"That's where you learnt it? Now I understand. You picked up bad habits while you were studying overseas."

"Shut up, Khushi."

"Wait. Did you kiss girls in college? How many girls have there been, exactly?"

"Hundreds," he grinned, "it'll take all night to list them all."

"Arnav-ji!"

"You, Lavanya," he counted on his fingers, "Lisa, you met her at AR, remember the coat? And Sheetal in college."

"I'll never forget that coat," Khushi mumbled against his shoulder.

"I'll never forget that sari."

"You forgot six-year-old you married."

"And the six-year-old I married," he amended, "Now it's your turn. List all your boyfriends."

"I've never had one,"

"Not even me?"

"You're not my ... Are you my boyfriend?"

He became quiet, seeming to consider the question seriously.

"I don't think of you as my girlfriend," he admitted, "I think of you as my future wife."

Her heart swelled with emotion as she hugged him, suddenly overwhelmed with the reality of it all. They were going to be married. She was going to be his wife.

"Khushi?"

"Mmmm?"

"Let me know when you're ready to try the kissing again, okay?"

She grimaced. "Must we?"

He chuckled, holding her tighter against his chest.

"No," he ran a hand through her hair, "but I think we should try again. You won't be so surprised next time."

 _Khushi, be brave._

She sat up, watching him carefully. "Maybe ... maybe we can try now?"

He kissed her forehead first, comforting her. Khushi held her breath as he leaned in, and this time she concentrated on the different sensations. The press of his lips as he molded them over hers, the slide of his tongue ( _his tongue!_ ) across her bottom lip, the light graze of his teeth.

When he pulled away, her breathing was erratic and her hands had twisted into his suit, crumpling it. He didn't seem to care. Arnav-ji stroked her hair and held her tight for several minutes, resting her head on his shoulder. He asked if she was okay, and Khushi could only nod. All her thoughts had flown away except one.

 _Could he do that again?_

Arnav-ji seemed to read her mind.


	19. Chapter 19: Arnav

**Chapter 19: Arnav**

 _14th January_

Arnav anxiously shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Khushi had been silent for more than ten minutes now.

The notes they exchanged every day had changed. They had begun as a way to tentatively explore the waters between them, to test one another's boundaries and to show each other how much they cared. As they grew closer, their notes had changed. They'd recently started asking each other for more.

 _Why do you like red so much_ , she'd asked, and he'd confessed that he hadn't had a favorite color until she'd stood in front of him in a red sari for the photo shoot. He didn't like red, he explained, he liked _her_ in red.

 _What do you think of when you picture us married_ , he'd asked Khushi, and she'd spent an entire drive talking about it. She was excited, looking forward to living under the same roof as her sister again, looking forward to living in his home as his wife.

"May I visit Laxmi Nagar whenever I want?"

"Only if you call me Arnav in private."

"I don't need your permission," she'd claimed, "I'll just ask Nani-ji."

"I'll lock you out of the bedroom," he'd grinned.

"I'll complain to Nani-ji," she'd poked his arm, "and she'll set you straight."

"Good luck."

 _Tell me about Teej_ , she'd said, and he'd told her that he'd seen her losing her balance, that he'd felt an urgent need to protect her, that he'd run to catch her. That she'd looked so vulnerable in his arms. That he was glad he'd broken her fast. It felt preordained.

 _Remember the day you were sneaking up behind me and then running away, and I caught you? What were you doing_ , he'd asked. He'd been amused by her explanation that she was testing if her heart beat faster when she came near him. When he'd followed up – _And did it beat faster?_ – she'd replied with one word. _Always_.

This morning, she'd slipped a note into the breast pocket of his jacket as he drove, flashing him a mischievous grin that made him want to kiss her for an eternity ... or two.

 _Show me where you kept my payal._

When she'd come upstairs to give him a cup of tea and a hug, as she always did after lunch, he'd silently taken her hand and stood her in front of the cupboard. Opening it, she'd found everything.

It felt like he was showing her the deepest part of himself. His heart pounded as he waited for her reaction.

Khushi touched the small box that contained three tiny pearls. She took the pearls out on her hand and let them roll around before placing them, and the box, back on the shelf. Next, she fiddled with the scrap from the dupatta he'd torn from his car. She opened a wooden box and found scraps of paper inside. Her resignation letter, the love-letter she'd written on behalf of Lavanya, all the notes they'd exchanged over the past few weeks. She caressed the broken red bangle when she found it, her body shuddering as she gave a tiny sob.

Arnav closed the distance between them and held her from behind.

"Are you all right?" he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Khushi nodded.

Then she held up a tiny silver key and started crying in earnest. Arnav turned her around and held her head as she cried into his chest.

"Ssshhh, what's wrong? Did I ... I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to scare you."

She pulled away with a hiccup. "You love me."

 _Why the hell would that make her cry?_

"Ahh, yeah. Of course. I'm marrying you."

"But," Khushi looked down and then back up at him, "You've never said it."

"Should I have to?" he frowned, "Isn't it enough that I show you? Isn't it enough that I'm marrying you?"

She nodded, sniffling, but Arnav felt like he still was missing something.

"Khushi," he said slowly, "did you think that I didn't love you?"

She hesitated before pulling out the ring she wore on a necklace. "You've never said it, not even when you gave me this ring, and then we fought about it on New Year's Eve."

The strands of his anger gathered as he took a few steps away from her.

 _What the hell? How could she ... It's not like she's ever said it outright either. But I still know that she loves me. She shows me every time she brings me tea, every time we embrace, every time she allows me to kiss her. Khushi wouldn't let me do any of that unless ..._

 _Oh._

She didn't have that reassurance to fall back on.

 _And I ... I've been avoiding telling her, thinking that she'd want some stupid filmy gesture when all she needs are the words._

Arnav returned to her and took her hand. The way she looked up at him – all soft and vulnerable - uncoiled something in his chest.

 _Damn, I'm an idiot._

"I thought you knew," he used two fingers to brush the hair from her face, "Khushi, I love you so much that sometimes I think I won't be able to breathe without you."

Khushi let out a breath that turned into a sob. She came easily when he pulled her closer, her hands automatically wrapping around him, and clung to him with something akin to desperation. He could feel the way his shirt twisted and stretched in her grip.

Some time later, she went back to the cupboard and took out the scrap from her dupatta.

"Even then?"

Arnav took a deep breath.

"Khushi, I think ... Sometimes I think it was always. From the first moment."

She held up the tiny silver key and gave him a small smile.

"Sometimes I think that too."


	20. Chapter 20: Khushi

**Chapter 20: Khushi**

 _19th January_

Khushi ran her hands over the sari, enjoying the way the soft fabric slipped through her fingers. It was a magnificent creation, entirely sunshine yellow except for the pallu, which was a bright, rich red with a border of silver, gold, and black thread. Bright blue gems were studded throughout.

Everyone was here, his entire family and hers too, because Anjali-ji had decided that they'd all shop for the wedding together and take advantage of the Raizada discount. Bua-ji and Jiji sat on a couch with Nani-ji, picking out a bridal outfit for her, while Anjali-ji and Nanhe-ji looked at sherwanis for him. Mami-ji was looking at something with Aakash-ji, while Mama-ji shook his head. Khushi sat with her mother on one of the couches.

She glanced at Arnav-ji. He was on the other side of the living room, a file spread across his lap and his phone in his hands. Somehow sensing that she was looking, he glanced up and gave her a small smile that went unnoticed in the chaos that surrounded them.

Khushi pulled another sari into her lap from the pile that sat on the table in front of her. This one was navy blue, with a threaded border worked in two shades of gold, and crystals embedded randomly along its length.

Her eyes shot to Arnav-ji as he coughed. He shook his head slightly.

Khushi glanced at her mother, but Amma was distracted, now helping Jiji with her selections. No one else was paying attention to her. Trying to look casual, she hovered her hand over a purple sari, and he gave another shake of his head. He rejected the pink one as well. She worked her way through all of them. He said no to the orange one, but yes to the emerald-green and peacock-blue, then no again to a red and black one. Finally, she'd narrowed her choices to three: the yellow and red one she'd favored at first, and two blue ones.

Arnav-ji reached for the jug of water on the table next to him and poured himself a glass. Khushi noticed the piece of paper that fell from his hand and onto the table.

"Amma, do you want some water?" she asked.

Amma glanced at her before distractedly saying yes. Khushi walked over, avoiding his eyes in case someone was watching, and slowly poured her mother a glass of water. She spilled some on purpose and reached for napkins to mop it up, gathering the note in her hand with the same motion.

Khushi handed Amma the water before sitting back down. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching and quickly unfolded the note.

 _I want to see you in the yellow one._

She folded it back up and put it inside her bag, hoping that no one could see her blush. When she looked up, Arnav-ji was watching her, a smile playing on his lips. She gave a quick nod when he raised an eyebrow at her. She was getting the yellow and red one.

"Chhote, come and pick what you'll wear."

Finished talking with Nanhe-ji about his selections, Anjali-ji turned her attention to her brother. Khushi watched out of the corner of her eye as Anjali-ji sat next to him with a catalogue.

"Di, I'll wear a suit like I always do," he gestured dismissively at the catalogue, "You know I don't wear these things."

"But Chhote, it's for Aakash's wedding."

"Aakash won't care what I'm wearing, Di. Look, I'll prove it to you. Aakash!" he raised his voice so it carried to the dining room, where Aakash-ji had been exiled so he couldn't see Jiji's outfit, "do you care what I wear to your wedding?"

All conversations ceased as everyone looked at Aakash-ji, who gave a bewildered shrug. Arnav-ji turned to his sister, victorious.

"See?"

Conversations slowly resumed. Khushi made her way to the seat vacated by Anjali-ji and tried to listen Nanhe-ji as he showed her what he'd picked out. He waved a bright sky-blue kurta at her. She was distracted, running her hands over the sherwani suits that were scattered on this end of the table. Her fingers rejected one after another until they alighted on a black one.

She pulled it out. It wasn't black. It was the darkest of blues, with a subtle pattern of diamonds that only showed up when held to the light. It was perfect.

Khushi placed it on top of all the others before looking at Arnav-ji, unsurprised to see that he was watching her intently. He shook his head slightly.

She frowned.

He shook his head again, more vigorously, and his sister looked up from the catalogue when she noticed the movement. Arnav-ji quickly turned his attention back to her.

Shrugging, Khushi told Nanhe-ji that she needed to tell her mother something and went back to the other side of the living room. Although she really, _really_ wanted to see him in it, she didn't think he'd appreciate her trying to force her will on him.

Khushi distracted herself by sitting next to her sister, grabbing the dupatta from one of the outfits in the shortlist and draping it over Jiji's head.

"You're going to look so beautiful, Jiji. The most beautiful bride ever. Jija-ji will be speechless."

Jiji blushed as she glanced towards the dining room. She reached over and found another dupatta, which she draped over Khushi's head.

"And you're going to be next. Our lovely Khushi, a blushing bride."

Khushi lifted her hands, covered in the green and pink dupatta, and then looked up at Arnav-ji, somehow knowing that he was already looking. He sat in his chair, the glass of water frozen on the way to his lips, blinking slowly and breathing shallowly.

Time stood still.

He looked at her in a way that made her want to hide herself, and yet, she didn't want him to stop.

Blushing, Khushi tore her gaze from him, and he cleared his throat and coughed as he recovered himself. She took the dupatta off and folded it, returning it to the pile.

 _Less than a month,_ she reminded herself, _and then we can tell everyone. Until it's our turn._

She and Jiji spent the next hour narrowing down her choices down to three. The first - Khushi's personal favorite - was gold and red, the second was green and red, and the third was three different shades of red, Jiji's favorite. They lay the three of them out, and all the women in both families gave their opinions while Jiji looked increasingly confused.

Khushi edged out of the circle, unnoticed, and went to sit near Arnav-ji. She fiddled with the saris and spoke without looking at him.

"What were you staring at earlier?"

He pretended to read his file.

"I think I know what I want you to wear at our wedding. Pink and green. The colours you were wearing when we met."

Blushing, Khushi put the sari she was toying with away. She was just about to bring up the sherwani when Nanhe-ji came between them, talking to Arnav-ji about his new clothes. Her heart sank a little when Arnav-ji repeated that he didn't want to wear any of them, but Nanhe-ji was insistent. He picked up the outfit that lay on top, the blue-black one she'd admired earlier, and thrust it at Arnav-ji.

Arnav-ji held it in his hands, feeling the material, before holding it to the light. He shook it out, judging its length, and then examined the buttons. He glanced over at Khushi before calling out to his sister.

"Di! If I wear this one will you promise not to annoy me about wearing these things for a year?"

Anjali-ji came over to them, smiling, and inspected what he was holding.

"Chhote, if you wear this, I'll promise not to annoy you for _two_ years."

"Okay then, it's a deal. I'll buy this, and you won't say anything for two years."

Arnav-ji looked at Khushi and gave her a quick wink, but was distracted by his sister.

"Chhote, this is great! It'll look so good on you! I won't annoy for you for two years, I promise, unless it's your own wedding. You'll have to wear all of this for your own wedding."

Unimpressed, Arnav-ji tried to argue with his sister, but Khushi interrupted.

"Yes, Arnav-ji! Who knows? Your wife-to-be might like to see you in these clothes," she grinned at him.

Arnav-ji looked at her, his eyes promising that he would take revenge for this, but didn't argue. Khushi noticed his sister shaking her head as she looked between them.


	21. Chapter 21: Arnav

**Chapter 21: Arnav**

 _30th January_

"Khushi, get back here!"

Ignoring him, Khushi ran around the pool to stand on the other side, giggling as she waved a sheaf of papers around. They'd been left alone in his house, briefly, and she was taking the opportunity to annoy him, as usual.

"No, Arnav-ji. If you want them back, you'll have to catch me."

"Stop being a child, Khushi. Give them back."

"No!" she stuck her tongue out and started up the stairs towards the terrace.

Arnav let loose a string of expletives as he chased after her and caught up when she was halfway up the stairs. She squirmed in his grip, laughing breathlessly as he carried her back to the poolside. He set Khushi down at the bottom of the stairs, still holding her tightly in case she tried to escape.

"What are you doing, you crazed woman?"

"You were so busy with your papers, you weren't even paying attention to me!"

"So you ran off with them?"

"Yes!" she grinned up at him, exceedingly pleased with herself.

"And what do you think is going to happen to you now that I've caught you?"

Her smile faltered, "You're going to let me go because you're very, very nice?"

Arnav pulled her closer and lowered his voice, knowing how it affected her. "And what if I'm not feeling very nice right now, baby?"

Khushi squirmed, trying to free herself, but he could tell that her efforts were half-hearted. They had this in common - they both hated losing. He gave a mock-growl and pretended to bite her neck, making her giggle. He held her tighter when she tried to get away and tickled her until she couldn't breathe.

"There. That's what you get for messing around with me," he sat on the edge of the pool, pulling her down next to him.

She was still smiling widely as she began apologizing for annoying him, but he waved her into silence. She was right. He'd been busy with an international contract and hadn't spent much time with her outside of their twice-daily drives. He missed her too. Arnav contemplated the sun-lounger, wondering if he could take a nap for a few minutes, when his entire right side was suddenly drenched water. He turned to Khushi, who squealed and bolted.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. Arnav-ji I'm really sorry!" she screamed as he caught her again, and this time, he decided that she needed to be punished properly.

He held her over the pool. "You want to play with the water?"

She hiccupped, looking down at the water and back at him. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, really?" he raised an eyebrow at her confidence.

"Arnav-ji I was just joking, I'm sorry!" her legs kicked in the air and she flailed her arms wildly, trying to get down.

"Khushi, stop moving around or I might drop you accidentally."

She froze.

"That's better. Now apologize."

"I just did."

"No. Apologize properly."

"What the—?"

Arnav smiled. The exclamation, harsh and cold when he voiced it, was adorable when it came from her lips.

"Okay, repeat after me: I, Khushi Kumari Gupta ..."

Khushi blinked up at him, confused, and then slowly repeated "I, Khushi Kumari Gupta."

"Am sorry for stealing Arnav Singh Raizada's things."

"Am sorry for stealing the Laad Govern—Oh! Sorry, Arnav Singh Raizada's things."

Arnav smile, amused that she was defiant even now, dangling over the pool.

"I promise to never annoy him again."

"I promise that I won't annoy him for rest of the day."

Arnav shrugged, unable to stop a grin. Something was better than nothing.

"And I think that he's better than me in every way," he continued.

"No! I'm not saying that!" Khushi pushed against his chest, startling him.

He lost his grip on her. Arnav managed to catch her just before she fell in, but lost his own balance and fell into the pool with a shout, dragging Khushi in with him. Righting himself, he found her a few feet away, coughing. He was instantly by her side.

"Khushi, are you all right?"

She nodded as he rubbed her back.

"At least it's only three feet deep," he tried to joke, but she wasn't amused.

"Now what?"

"Uhh, well. I'll go and change, and you ... you can ... I'll get you some of Di's clothes."

"No, they won't fit me."

"Um, okay. Let me think about it."

Arnav hauled himself out of the pool before lifting Khushi out, and ran to get her a towel when he noticed her shivering. He dried himself off as best as he could with a second towel. When she was no longer dripping, he took her to the guest room, telling her to have a warm shower so she wouldn't catch a cold. He left her there to call Aman.

"Aman. I need you to deliver one of the _salwaar kameezes_ from the new line to my house. It's an emergency ... I don't care what colour, Aman, just bring one over ... Size? Ummm, " Arnav glanced at the door of the guest room, "... make it the same size as that sample I took home. Yes."

He ended the call after making sure Aman knew how urgent this was, and then rushed to his bedroom, where he changed into dry clothes and grabbed his Harvard jumper and matching pants. Arnav knocked on the door to the bathroom in the guest-room and told Khushi that he'd put clothes outside for her.

Fifteen minutes later, she came down the stairs wearing his clothes. They were loose on him – he used them for jogging - so they looked ridiculous on Khushi. She'd rolled the sleeves back until her hands were peeking through, and had done the same with the pants, but she was still swamped. Khushi sat on the edge of a sofa, her hair still damp, and refused to make eye contact. She walked to the kitchen after a long, strained silence, leaving Arnav to wonder what was wrong.

She returned a few minutes later with a teapot and two cups and busied herself by serving tea.

"Arnav-ji. I can't go home like this."

 _Oh._

"Don't worry. Aman is coming with another _salwaar kameez_ for you. Like the red and pink one. It should be fine, just tell your family it was a gift or something."

Arnav watched as relief seeped through her – her shoulders relaxed, her hands unclenched, and she let out a sigh. He answered the door for Aman when he arrived, gratefully accepting the bag he offered. The outfit Aman had brought was yellow and green. He presented the bag to Khushi, who peeked inside before looking up at him uncertainly.

"Where's the rest?"

"The rest?"

Khushi blushed and looked away. She paced the length of the living room, muttering to herself. Arnav watched her for a few minutes, his unease growing, and when she didn't seem to be calming down, took a few steps towards her. She froze, and then backed away as he approached, shaking her head.

 _What the hell?_

"Khushi, what's wrong?"

She wrung her hands as she blushed again.

"I ... Arnav-ji, I ..." she sighed and turned around, refusing to make eye contact.

"Okay. If you can't say it, can you write it down?" he asked, hoping that the familiarity of revealing their deepest selves on paper would calm her.

Khushi nodded, marching to the study for a pen and paper. She folded it when she was done and stood as far from him as possible when she handed it to him. She turned away again, hiding her face in her hands.

 _Underclothes._

At first, he was confused, but then understanding dawned. She needed ...

 _Oh hell._

"Uhh, Khushi. I don't know what to do."

"May I call Jiji and ask her to bring me some clothes?"

 _That's a much better idea than any I've had so far._

"Yes! Use the landline, of course. I'll ... I'll just take the tea to my room, okay?"

Arnav retreated upstairs, cursing his stupidity. He should've called Payal from the offset. Now Khushi was downstairs, wearing his clothes, probably brainstorming lies about what had happened. She was handling this alone because he'd proved himself _incapable_. He heard the doorbell ring, followed by the low murmur of women's voices. He heard them pass his room on their way to the guestroom. Half an hour later, he heard the front door slam and wondered if Khushi had left with her sister.

But the knock on his door told him that she'd chosen to stay. Arnav opened it to find Khushi wearing the yellow and green suit Aman had delivered. Her hair was neatly brushed and plaited and her smile had returned.

"Thank you for the clothes. They're beautiful."

"It's okay. Are you ... are you all right now?"

"Yes."

"Do you want me to drop you home?"

"No."

Arnav stepped aside, inviting her in, and she sat on the sofa without hesitation. He sat on the bed, trying to stay away from her in case she was still uncomfortable. Khushi broke their silence.

"I told Jiji that I was alone by the poolside and fell in."

"Okay. And ... and my clothes?"

"Oh, I put them with the laundry and I told Jiji that I'd found them in the dryer."

There was another awkward silence, and again, it was her who broke it.

"What's Ha-Harvard?"

Arnav smiled.

"Where I went to college. Harvard Business School, Massachusetts. In America."

Her eyes widened. "What did you study?"

"I did an MBA. Masters of Business Administration. It taught me how to start AR Designs, basically."

"Oh. Amma and Babu-ji couldn't send me to college. What was it like?"

"Fun. It was good to get away, but I missed everyone too. I could only come back twice a year."

She nodded as she fiddled with her dupatta. "Will you go back to America? Will you travel a lot, after we're married?"

"Sometimes. Mama and Aakash do a lot of the traveling for me, but sometimes I need to go places myself."

"May I come with you?"

"If you want ..." Arnav rubbed the back of his neck, "Though I can't promise that it'll be fun. I'll be busy most of the time. You might prefer to stay home."

Khushi mumbled something he couldn't hear, so he moved to sit on the sofa and held her hand.

"Khushi, what's wrong?"

She rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled close.

"I just ... downstairs ... I realized how close we are to getting married and there's still so much I don't know or understand about you. And then ... the clothes ... I shouldn't have reacted like that. We're going to get married ..."

"You don't have to be someone you're not. It's not going to be instantaneous, it'll take time for both of us to adjust. We're not going to know everything about each other when we get married, but that just means that we get to spend the rest of our lives figuring it out. Together."

She was silent for a long time, content to sit next to him and share warmth. Arnav stroked her hair and felt himself relax for the first time since they'd fallen into the pool. Her question, when she asked it, surprised him.

"Arnav-ji, when we're married, I'll have half of this sofa, right?"

"Uhh, I guess so."

"And half of the poolside?"

"Yes."

"And half of this bedroom?" she smiled at him.

"Khushi, why are you asking me this?"

"May I put up Salman Khan posters in my half?"

"No," he frowned, "I'm not having another man's posters in my – _our_ – bedroom, Khushi."

"But I have Salman Khan posters in my bedroom now," she pouted.

"Really? Remind me to take them down the next time I'm there."

"Arnav-ji!" Khushi smacked his arm lightly and waited for his laughter to die down before continuing, "May I have one more thing?"

"Anything. You know that."

"May I hang my stars above the bed?"

There was a tightening in Arnav's chest as he remembered. He gathered her up and held her close.

"Of course, Khushi. You don't need to ask. You're not ... you're not getting half of everything after marriage. You get all of it, and all of me."

Khushi grinned, "Everything? I get everything?"

"Everything," he confirmed, "or at least ... whatever's left after Nani and Bua-ji are finished with me."

"They won't be that angry, will they? They'll understand."

"I'll take care of everything," Arnav kissed the back of her hand, "It'll be fine. Aakash and Payal's wedding starts next week ... we'll tell everyone as soon as it's over."

He sighed as Khushi snuggled into his side, her implicit trust in him shining in her eyes.

 _I won't let you down. Never again._

* * *

The End

* * *

 _Thanks for reading_ Moments _! I hope you enjoyed the journey. A huge thank you to everyone who left such wonderful comments and reviews. The_ _third part of the Secret Romance AU, THE REVEAL, deals_ _with Arnav and Khushi revealing what's been going on between them. Read it now :)_


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